


This Regrettable Game

by smile_it_will_get_better



Series: This Regrettable Game series [1]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Character Study, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, He gets better, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marvin (Falsettos) Being an Asshole, Sort Of, Whizzer Brown & Jason Friendship, Whizzer Brown Deserves Better, Whizzer's family, Young Whizzer, basically it's just an extended story of my headcannons for Whizzer's life, but only for a little bit, will add more tags as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: This was the best option for the both of them. That he was convinced of. This was an event that was predestined to happen ever since their eyes first met in that dirty bar almost a year ago. Their relationship was a twisted dance, a tango of going back and forth, insults and compliments, sex and slammed doors, passion and anger. This was the finale, them heading in two different directions.Whizzer shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath to steady the swirl of feelings swirling inside him.This was for the best.It was for the best....Snapshots of Whizzer's life from the time when he was a young boy all the way to meeting Marvin and finally ending at his final days in the hospital.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I got this idea from another fic. I don't remember the name but basically it was Whizzer writing letters to his parents. BUt I change it to him writing to his mom as a way of venting. This is just my idea of how Whizzer childhood might have been. It's a bit dark and there is a bit of domestic abuse in this chapter so watch out. There's also homophobic slurs used as well. 
> 
> Also, there's no way his name is actually Whizzer, so I made his name Andrew because I like that name. I also mention the marvel superhero Whizzer a few times, that's kind of where I envision he got his name from. Although that doesn't come into play for a while. 
> 
> So, he might be horribly out of character for the first few chapters because well that's how I wrote him as a child. He should get more in character as it goes on. THis is also my first Falsettos fic, and I'm not that into the fandom yet? So please be nice.

_“Dear mom.  
You don’t smile as much as you used to. Your eyes used to twinkle and you used to always laugh whenever Auntie May came over. Now you never laugh, and Auntie hasn’t been over in forever. It’s because of dad isn’t is? He’s been yelling more, I can hear him every night when he gets home from work. I don’t like it. You don’t either do you?_

_Either way, I’m not sure why I’m writing this. Mrs. Smith said it was a good idea to write out what was bothering us, so I thought maybe it was a good idea. She says since I don’t like talking that much writing is the best alternative. I won’t send it though, it would only make you more sad. I don’t like you being sad. Maybe I’ll make you go for a walk this week, like we used to. We can go make fun of people's clothing taste and then get ice cream. I like ice cream and you do too. Then you’ll be happy again._

_Love, Andrew.” ___

__

__“Mommy?” Andrew asked, slowly walking into the room, his eyes shifting to see if his father was truly gone._ _

__“Andrew honey, what are you doing up? It’s late.” His mother scolded, rubbing at her eyes to try and erase the tear tracks running down them. It was too late, Andrew had already seen them._ _

__“I heard Daddy come in, I wanted to see him. But he left didn’t he.” He lied, walking closer and clutching onto her skirt to make sure she stayed down at his level. His mother sighed, wrapping her arms around his small waist and hoisting him up into her arms._ _

__“Yes he left already.” She said absently, walking away from the shattered glass on the ground. Andrew nodded, burying his head into the crook of her neck. He had heard his father screaming, heard the glass break and his mom plead for him to stay. “Do you want to go back to bed?” She asked softly._ _

__Andrew shook his head, clutching tighter to her. He didn’t want to leave her, because then what would happen if Daddy came back? He never yelled much when Andrew was around._ _

__“Okay Sweetheart, do you want me to read to you?” She asked, already making her way back to his room. He never denied a bedtime story._ _

__She tucked him in a laid down next to him, wrapping her arms around his tiny frame. For a six-year-old he was pretty small, lack of food and money was probably the reason._ _

__Andrew listened as his mom read to him, Charlotte's Web, one of his favourites._ _

__“Mom?” He asked halfway through, finally ready to voice the thoughts that had been running around his head ever since his dad came into the house._ _

__“Yes?” She asked, putting the book down._ _

__“Why does Daddy yell at you?” He asked, looking up at her. She tensed, her face turning slightly sad. Andrew regretted the question immediately. He shouldn’t have asked, he heard the yelling, knew the words that daddy threw at mom. He didn’t want to remind her of them._ _

__“Your dad yells because he loves me, and that’s the only way he knows how to show it.” She said after a minute, running her fingers through his hair. Andrew frowned looking at the ground. That didn’t sound like love. But his mom knew best, and if that was what love really was like?_ _

__He found he wasn’t as excited to fall in love as he used to be. He didn’t want to yell at someone like dad yells at mom, didn’t want anyone to yell at him either. Love was stupid anyways._ _

__His mom picked up the book again, flipping through the pages as she started to read._ _

__Soon he was slowly drifting off to sleep, his mom planting a final kiss to the top of his head before he was pulled under the tide._ _

__The next morning everyone pretended like It didn’t happen. Like they weren’t down another glass, that his dad wasn’t hung over, like his mom wasn’t trying to please him and that Andrew hadn’t heard it all. A normal day in the Jacobs family._ _

__His dad didn’t stay for long, simply eating a few pieces of toasts and berating his mom for burning the eggs, which wasn’t true, Andrew quite enjoyed the eggs. Then he was off, out the door with a promise to be home for dinner for once._ _

__Andrew didn’t believe him._ _

__“So, anything you want to do today Andrew? Your brother is still out with the church for the day so it’s just you and me this weekend.” His mom asked, plastering a fake smile on her face. He knew it was fake, he could tell because her eyes didn’t shine like they normally did. She hadn’t truly smiled in around two weeks. He was keeping track at this point._ _

__“I was wondering if we could go for a walk?” He asked hesitantly, his smile widening when she agreed._ _

__Andrew practically ran to complete the rest of his chores, cleaning his room, making his bed, brushing his teeth. And in under an hour he was ready to leave, his mom laughing as he practically vibrated with excitement._ _

__“I didn’t know you loved our walks this much.” She chuckled, helping him get his jacket on. It wasn’t that cold out, just a light autumn chill. Andrew didn’t reply, simply grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door. He chased after the leaves that were slowly falling to the ground, his mom walking behind him to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. They came to central park close to ten minutes later, Andrew's cheeks pink with the wind as he retreated back to his mother's side._ _

__He almost wished his brother was with him, chatting away with his endless talks on everything from the weather to the latest going on at school. His twin, David, was his polar opposite, loud when he was quiet, investing in his father’s religion where Andrew wanted to learn more about his mothers, outgoing where he was reserved. They were different in almost every way but they fit together so perfectly like two pieces of an puzzle. But his brother was out at a special church outing, one that Andrew refused to go to, much to his father’s disgust._ _

__He wasn't interested in christianity, he found his moms religion so much more interesting. He proudly told everyone he was 'half jewish' even if his dad always corrected him by saying he was Catholic._ _

__There wasn’t many people out, and his mom gripped his hand tight, pulling him close to her side as she started her normal monologue on everyone around them. It was always the highlight of their walk, him just listening to his moms soothing voice as they judged everyone around them._ _

__“See that girl over there?” She whispered, pointing to a lady walking her dog. “She’s wearing a nice red jacket which is pretty by itself, but she’s wearing a green blouse on under it. Red and green are nice colors, but it’s not Christmas yet.” She whispers, smiling softly when Andrew giggles._ _

__She then goes on to point out the numerous style crimes walking around, including shapeless tops, colors that clash, and wrinkled shirts. After they walked through the park she led him to a nice cozy coffee shop. She bought them both tea, green for her and ridiculously sweet chamomile for Andrew._ _

__They sat at a table, his mom talking on and on about her work as Andrew listened. She worked at a secretary at a popular newspaper, Andrew didn’t really understand her job, but he enjoyed listening to her talk about it, going on and on about what her boss wanted her to do that week._ _

__Soon they were out again, Andrew grasping his mom's’ hand as he pointed out interesting things in the windows of the stores._ _

__One store caught his eye, a comic store just on the corner of the street. He looked up pleadingly at his mom, who looked hesitant but still allowed him to look inside. He ran through the aisles, searching through them to find the superhero books. He had a fascinating obsession with superheroes, something about the imagination put into every character, the complexity, the strength._ _

__Sometime Andrew wished he was a superhero, one that would swoop in and save his mom. Maybe then he would have the courage to go downstairs when his dad was in a mood, instead of hiding in his room or the closet. Maybe then he could escape with his mom and David and go to a happier place._ _

__But Andrew was no superhero. So he simply picked up a comic and begged his mom to buy it for him. “Please mom? I’ll do all my chores without complaining.” He offered, giving her the closest thing to puppy dog eyes he knew. She smiled and ruffled his hair._ _

__“Fine Andrew, don’t tell your dad.” She took the comic out of his hand and brought it to the counter buying it and placing a kiss on the top of his head._ _

__“Thank you so much.” He cried, taking the book and rushing out the door. When he turned he saw his mom smiling softly down at him, a real smile this time._ _

__It made him feel happy and warm inside and he smiled even wider, the perfect ending to a good day._ _

__It still didn’t change the fact that her smile faded quickly that night when his father came home, and it didn’t change the fact that he was still hiding in the closet later that night, tears running down his cheeks as he read through the pages of his comic and tried to picture is moms smile._ _

________ _

__

__“Oh, look at him, he’s going to be such a little heartbreaker when he’s older.” His Auntie May cooed, pinching his cheek and laughing when Andrew scrunched his face up in disgust. He hated when people pinched his cheek. David snickered beside him._ _

__Although he sometimes thought Auntie May talked too much and was a bit stuck up, he had missed her. It had been months since she came up for a visit. Andrew suspected her random appearance had to do with the fight last night. His dad had screamed so loud his mom started sobbing, and there was a loud sound of skin hitting skin before everything quieted down, and all Andrew could hear was his dad apologizing over and over again. His mom crawled into bed with him later that night, holding him close and they both pretended that he was asleep._ _

__And now Auntie May was here, and his mom was smiling and even his dad looked a bit happier than he normally did._ _

__“The girls are going to love you Andrew.” His auntie said, patting his head. Andrew frowned, girls never really interested him much. Sure, some were pretty, but they didn’t make his heart stutter or anything like the books said they would. Maybe he was just too young, only a few weeks away from seven, but he knew that girls would never be something we would be overly invested it._ _

__Love was stupid anyways. Love made you yell and hit and cry and it seemed like it did nothing but cause pain._ _

__“What if I don’t want to girls to love me.” He blurted out without thinking, and he felt the room tense up. He looked over at him mom, who was looking at his dad, and his dad was looking murderous, a storm on his face. David shuffled closer to him, his hand resting beside Andrews in a show of support. Even Auntie May, who always had something to say, seemed to be at a loss for words._ _

__“You will, no son of mine will be a dirty queer. You understand me boy?” His father growled, and Andrew’s face scrunched up at the word. He had heard it being thrown around a few times before at the dinner table, queer, fag, homo. All words spit by his father as if they were swears, but Andrew didn’t get the whole deal. If he remembered correctly it referred to two men in love. Sure, love was stupid and damaging, but it was just love right? It wasn't like they were harming anyone._ _

__“I said, do you understand me?” His father stood up quickly, towering over the young boy._ _

__“Yes.” Andrew squeaked, ducking his head._ _

__He felt his father sit back down, and Auntie May started the conversation up again, this time refusing to address Andrew._ _

__He didn’t care too much, he was too busy thinking._ _

__What was wrong with two men loving each other?_ _

__There was only one answer he could think of, love was wrong, if two people couldn’t get married, then no one should._ _

________ _

__

__It was David and his seventh birthday, and Andrew sat in his bedroom, happy for the weekend but also dreading the night._ _

__Since it was his birthday, he was required to sit at the table through the entire dinner beside his father. Most nights his dad would either be too late to join them or would leave half way through because he didn’t like how something was. But tonight, he was home and would most likely not leave early._ _

__Sometimes Andrew hated his birthdays. He flipped another page in his comic, half reading half not, he had read this one issue a million times, since it was the only he kept when his dad made him sell them all. They had needed the money._ _

__His mom knocked on the door, smiling slightly and walking in._ _

__“Hey kid, reading that old thing again?” She asked, sitting beside him and peering over his shoulder._ _

__He nodded. “It’s my favourite part.” He said quietly, flipping the page again._ _

__“And why’s that?” She asked, even though she knew the answer._ _

__“Because The Whizzer is coming soon.” He said with a smile, flipping the pages until he saw his favourite superhero decked out in black and yellow._ _

__His mom laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Your favorite huh?” She teased with a gentle smile._ _

__“Yeah! He’s brave and fast and always does the right thing.” He said, grinning as he closed it. She just chuckled again._ _

__“Okay bud, it’s time for dinner.” She said, getting up and moving to the door, Andrews face immediately fell and he took a deep breath, preparing himself to go face his father._ _

__It had been months since the two had interacted for more than twenty minutes of forced conversation. Andrew and him just didn’t click like him and his mom did. His dad didn’t know how to sit in silence with him, didn’t know how to make him smile. His dad expected a lot from him, good grades, good behaviour, good looks, it was too much for Andrew to handle. He left all the impressing stuff for David, he just preferred to read his books and take pictures._ _

__He walked downstairs, joining David as they started to set the table, his dad was sitting on the couch watching the tv and his mom putting the finishing touches on the meal._ _

__Him and his twin moved around each other effortlessly, falling into the habit they always did. David really was his only friend, the kids at school were condescending and rude, but David never pressured him into anything. It was a nice change._ _

__“Dinner’s ready sweetheart.” His mom called, and his dad grunted in reply before shutting off the television and sitting at the head of the table. Andrew smiled at him as David started making small talk, falling easily into the picture of a perfect son._ _

__Andrew simply cut himself a piece of ham and piled on some corn and strawberries. He vaguely listened in on the conversation, preferring to listen instead of join in._ _

__“What about you Andrew?” His father asked, his voice cold. Andrew’s hand stopped for a moment before continuing to cut his meat. “How was your day at school?”_ _

__Andrew shrugged, giving his dad a half smile. To everyone else in the family it was enough. He didn’t need words to explain how he felt, to get his point across. His mom understood, David understood, they both went on with their meals as if nothing happened. Because to them that was an answer._ _

__“I asked you a question boy.” His dad growled, and immediately all conversation and eating stopped. Andrew new that tone of voice, heard it every time his mom and dad got into a fight, heard it all the time before his mom made him and David go upstairs to their shared room._ _

__“It’s okay Jack. If he doesn’t want to say a thing he doesn’t have to say anything.” His mom said, placing a hand on his father's’ arm._ _

__“No, it’s not okay Catherine. My son refuses to talk to me and I have no idea if its because he’s retarded or disrespectful. I for one am leaning towards the first.” His father hisses, slamming his hand on the table so loud that Andrew jumps, dropping his fork from his hand. His dad grins in response, a sick look entering his eye._ _

__“A retarded son, who can’t even string words together. What a mistake it was in keeping him. Should have thrown him out as soon as I could.” His dad continued. “He doesn’t talk, has no friends, spends all his time reading stupid comic books and failing at everything I need him to do. Jesus Christ I don’t even know if he has the brain power to speak.”_ _

__“I can talk. I just choose not to talk to assholes like you.” Andrew snaps, his anger rushing up in one small burst. His dad can’t say those things about him, can’t insult him like that and get away with that. His dad pushes everyone around, the people at work, his mother, but he won’t allow him to push him around. He won’t._ _

__The table is silent for a long time, Andrew staring straight into his father's’ eyes._ _

__“You little mother fucker.” His dad snarled, starting to get up when his mom grabbed his arm and held him down._ _

__“He’s seven Jack.” She hissed, and Andrew felt guilty for the fear in her eyes. It was his fault. He should have never opened his mouth, never should have sworn at his dad, he ducked his head._ _

__His dad ripped away at her touch, even though he thankfully kept sitting._ _

__“He spends too much time with you, your making him soft. A pansy, a little bitch.” His dad said it calmly, belaying no anger or regret. Andrew shrinks again, picking up his fork with trembling hands. “Your influence on him is too strong. But there’s hope.”_ _

__And with that terrifying note the dinner continued, and not another word was spoken._ _

__That night, Andrew lay awake, listening to his brother shift around in his bed._ _

__He couldn’t get the diner out of his head, the anger and rage he felt when snapping at his father, the pain and disappointment he felt when his dad refused to step up to the attack._ _

__“Andy?” David called across the room, his voice carrying in the silent house._ _

__“Yeah?” He responded turning his head to look at his brother’s dark form._ _

__“Happy Birthday.” David said._ _

__“Happy birthday.” Andrew replied._ _

__He fell asleep quickly after, not hearing his mom and dad argue through the thin walls._ _

_________ _

__A week later he was sleeping peacefully when his father came home. He heard the door slam and he sat up quickly, unsure about what to do. He listened carefully as he heard him mom start talking to him softly, before slowly it escalated into screaming like it always did._ _

__Andrew pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and ducking his head. He heard his name getting thrown around again, the same way it had for the past few nights, ever since his birthday dinner._ _

__He ignored it, tuning out every word and sound until suddenly the door was blown open. He startled, his heart pumping loudly as he stared at his dad, who stood in the doorway fuming._ _

__“Daddy?” David muttered, still half asleep._ _

__“Go to bed David, I need to talk with your brother.” His dad said, stumbling forwards towards Andrew, who cowered back._ _

__His dad reached out, grasping his arm and pulling him to his feet. Andrew cried out in protest, his father's’ fingers digging uncomfortably into his skin. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the pain he felt as his dad dragged him towards the closet. He ripped the doors open, shuffling through it until he found what he was looking for. Andrews travel bag, a small suitcase filled with a week’s worth of clothes and extra hygienic things._ _

__His dad grabbed it and stormed out of the room, dragging a now crying Andrew through the halls. Andrew heard his twin call after him, his little feet slapping against the floor as he tried to catch up. His dad turned, slamming Andrew against the wall painfully._ _

__David was standing at the end of the hall, his eyes wide as he looked at his dad, who was still gripping a crying Andrews arm._ _

__“Go back to bed David.” He snarled, and David slowly backed away, the fear overtaking the need to go help his brother._ _

__His dad continued down the stairs, Andrew stumbling to keep up with him. His mom was at the bottom, tears running down her face and the side of her cheek red and puffy. Andrew tried to go to her, wanting to feel her arms around him, comforting him and telling him that everything was going to be alright. But his dad just tightened the grip on his already bruising arm, yanking him away from his only source of comfort._ _

__His mom cried out, running towards them, but his dad stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulder and roughly pushing her to the ground, she cried out as she hit the floor._ _

__“Mommy!” Andrew cried, pulling again to get to where she was laying. But his dad dragged his struggling frame out the door, practically throwing him into the car and slamming the door._ _

__Moments later the car was started and they were driving away, Andrew crying and struggling as he tried in vain to get the door open. When he realized the effort was pointless he looked out the back window, watching as his mother chased after the car before collapsing in the middle of the street._ _

__Her haunted look was etched into his mind, the distress and fear painted all over it._ _

__It was the last time he ever saw her._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only on chapter two and I'm already forgetting to post, whoops. I'm not too happy with this chapter but it was kind of fun to write so yeah, hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Also I play around with his age a lot throughout this, but it isn't that important. So if you don't know how old he is at the time, pretend like you don't need to know. 
> 
> Trigger Warning for referenced and graphic child abuse and homophobic language.

_“Dear mom,_

_I haven’t wrote one of these in years. Honestly, I kind of forgot I used to do these. I must have wrote a dozen before I left. I wonder if you ever found them, I didn’t get to take them with me. I didn’t get to take anything with me. Dad told me not to dwell on the past. He tells me a lot of things that I don’t listen to. I’m twelve now, it’s actually my birthday right now. I really hope you and David are doing something nice, but not too nice because then I’d be jealous that I’m not there. Well, I’ll be jealous anyways. I miss you so much. I miss David too, I even miss Auntie May sometimes when I’m really lonely.  
But don’t worry about me. I’m better now, sure Dad and I don’t get along and sometimes he still scares me. But I’m fine. I’m dealing. I have friends now too, you’d be proud of me I think. I talk so much that sometimes I can’t stop, just ramble on and on like David used to. I don’t know if he does anymore.   
I miss you, I miss going on walks and judging everyone’s style. I miss stolen nights spent reading books, I miss celebrating Jewish celebrations when Dad wasn’t home. He doesn’t let me do Hanukkah anymore, although I still do it at night when he’s asleep.   
You know, sometimes I find that I forget things about you. I remember that your hair was brown but I can’t remember if it was curly or not. I remember the way you smiled but not the way your voice sounded like. It’s weird. I can say all this because I’ll never be able to send this letter, I forgot where we lived. I remember it was somewhere in New York though, we live in Alabama now. Maybe one day I’ll find you and David again and you can read these letters. But you probably won’t, I’ve long given up on the idea of seeing you again. Five years can do that to you.   
Well, now this letter just went from therapeutic to depressing. Sorry, I should go now. Dad will be home soon and he’s expecting me to make him dinner.   
Love you lot’s, Andrew.” _

Andrew clicked his pen looking down at his finished worksheet before looking up at the clock. He still had twenty minutes left in this period, he shouldn’t have rushed it. He sighed, putting his pen down and gazing around the class. It was math, so none of his close friends were there for him to bug. He glanced over at the boy sitting beside him, wondering briefly if he would be any fun.

The kid looked up at him before Andrew could look away, their eyes meeting for a second. Andrew felt his face heat up as he looked away. Embarrassment he told himself. 

“Are you done already?” The kid whispered in disbelief, causing Andrew to look back over at him. 

“Yeah.” He said with a shrug, the worksheet wasn’t that hard. 

“Wow, you’re pretty smart huh?” The kid asked, grinning widely. Andrew blushed more, trying to form the right words to say a sentence but his vocal cords failed him. 

“Andrew, Charles I would like it if you spent more time working and less chatting.” The teacher said, cutting off his attempt to speak. Andrew reddened further, looking to the ground before shyly glancing back up at the kid. Their eyes met and they both smiled before turning back to their own work. 

Charles, he liked that name. 

The bell rang and Andrew booked it from class like always, beating everyone else out to the hall. He was on his way to the final class of the day when he heard someone call his name. 

Turning back, he was slightly confused and slightly pleased to see Charles chasing after him. 

“Andrew, oh my god why do you walk so fast?” The kid said with a huff, and Andrew smiled. 

“Well, I am 90% leg.” He teased, slightly embarrassed when the other boys gaze flickered down to his legs immediately. “What’s up?” He asked, forcing the kids gaze back to his face. 

“Oh, I just wanted to ask you something.” Charles said softly, looking down and scratching his head in what looked like embarrassment. “It’s just, your really smart, and I’m kind of failing math, so I was wondering if you would tutor me?” He said it all very quickly almost like he was excepting Andrew to mock him.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m not that good at math.” Andrew replied, looking at anything except the kids face. 

“Are you kidding me? Your horrible at hiding things, I see all those 100%. Please dude?” Charles asked, grabbing Andrew’s arm. 

His breath caught, staring down at where Charles hand was holding his. 

“Sure.” He said without thinking. “I would love to.”

 

And just like that they made plans to head for Charles house after school, and the other boy was running off to his next class, leaving Andrew in a slight state of shock. He wasn’t a good teacher, so why was he feeling so happy?

He walked into his next class, sitting next to one of his friends. 

“What’s making you so happy?” They asked with a slight scoff. Andrew briefly wondered why he put up with such snobby people. 

“Nothing.” He replied, but he wasn’t able to shake the smile on his face as he remembered the way Charles face lit up when Andrew agreed. 

______________________________

Andrew fell in love with Charles family almost immediately. His mom patted his cheek and always complimented him on his manners, his dad was rarely there when Andrew was over, but when he was he was kind, telling jokes and laughing along with his kids. It was so different from interacting with his own father that sometimes it gave him whiplash. Charles had a younger sister too; her name was Maria and watching her and Charles interact made something deep inside him ache. Made him long for his own brother that he hadn’t seen in years. 

His family always welcomed him in, either for studying or just on nights when he couldn’t stay at home. He worried them sometimes, showing up with faint bruises on his cheek but still smiling widely. He sat in their kitchen now, ignoring the way his cheek stung as he tried to teach Charles the best he could. 

He kept messing up, erasing his work before Charles grabbing his hand to stop him from furiously erasing his latest mistake. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not really being a good teacher right now huh.” Andrew said with a laugh, forcing a grin to appear normal. He didn’t feel normal at the moment. His cheek stung from the backhand he received before going out, a gift from his drunken father. Charles frowned instead of laughing along, and Andrew worried that he had somehow upset his friend. 

“Are you okay Andrew? You seem on edge.” Charles asked, and Andrew hated how soft his voice was, how much he wanted to give in and tell him everything. He took a deep breath. 

“Yeah Charlie, I’m good, just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” He lied, it bugged him slightly how the lie rolled off his tongue so easily. He didn’t want to lie to Charles, to the boy who had opened his home and his heart to let this pretty mess into his life. 

Charles frown deepened and he shut his text book with a loud clap. 

“Well, then we’re not studying. Let’s go upstairs and just relax. You look like a train hit you.” Charles declared, grabbing Andrew’s hand and pulling him up and away. Andrew tried to protest, but Charles wouldn’t let him, shushing him with a soft glare. 

They were soon sitting in Charles room, side by side on his bed as they laughed at some stupid thing a kid at school did. Andrew stared at Charles, a soft smile on his face and feeling more content than he had in ages. Charles looked over at him and Andrew flicked his eyes up like he normally did. 

He knew by now that girls were not something he was interested in. All his friends were always talking about Mary Coldwell and how her hips moved when she walked, or Susan Fenmen and how plump her lips were. Andrew didn’t really care about that. He didn’t notice anything like that. But he did notice the way Charles blue eyes tinkled when he made a joke. He noticed the way his laugh echoed around the room and how his eyes crinkles when he smiled. 

It scared him because he knew it wasn’t right. His dad talked about it all the time, about boys who thought they could love boys and girls who thought they could love girls. He told Andrew that it was disgusting, dirty, the wrong way to live his life. But it didn’t feel wrong to him. Girls were interesting as friends, but the thought of them as anything else made him sick. 

“Andrew?” Charles asked, and he snapped back to real life, his cheeks heating red as he realized he had been staring. 

He mumbled a quick sorry, sitting up and looking away. If Charles found out about this stupid little crush, everything would fall apart. Their friendship would be over, his reputation ruined, his dad would kill him. 

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder, and Andrew tensed for a moment, expecting a slap or a punch. Nothing came and he slowly relaxed and allowed Charles to pull him back down into a reclined position. They lay like that for a while, not saying a thing, both lost in their thoughts. Then, hesitantly, Charles reached his hand over and brushed a finger over Andrews knuckles. 

Andrew thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest, but he stayed still, letting Charles do whatever he wanted to do. He almost gasped when he felt Charles grab a hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers together. 

“Is this okay?” Charles asks sounding almost scared. Andrew took a moment to get his head on straight enough that he can respond. 

“Yeah, more than okay.” He says, a bit breathlessly. His smile widens as Charles starts to giggle, before he just starts laughing outright. Andrew joined in, not sure what’s funny but enjoying the moment either way. 

_____________________

Andrew furiously scrubs at the counter, tying in vain to get the burn marks out of the wood. It was a mistake, a stupid little mistake that he made. He was moving the pot from the stove to the sink so he could drain it when the metal touched his hand and he dropped it. Now his hand was burning and the wood had a dark stain in it that wasn’t coming off.

Andrew blinked back tears, glancing at the door and hoping that for once in his life his Father would be late coming home. The clock told him he had barely five minutes before his time was up. Letting out a frustrated yell as the burn ached badly Andrew dropped the cloth, giving up and throwing a plate overtop of the burn in hope that his father wouldn’t notice. He practically ran to the sink, running his hand through cold water as tears started running down his cheek.

God it stung. 

Breathing through the pain he quickly turned back to the table, hurrying to put all the dishes out before his dad walked in. The front door opened and Andrew looked up at his father, immediately gauging his mood. His posture was stiff, his back straight and mouth set in a line. His tie was loose around his neck and his clothes wrinkled. From just that Andrew turned and quickly poured a glass of whiskey. 

He placed it in front of his dad’s plate, sitting across and looking up at his dad. There was no words exchanged as his dad sat and gave himself a healthy helping of the pasta. His dad quickly chugged the rest of glass and quickly refilled it. Andrew frowned but choose to ignore it, instead shovelling a bunch of undercooked pasta into his mouth. 

Andrew did not know how to cook. At all, he failed the simplest dishes easily. Even if he followed the instructions to the dot he always found a way to mess it up. His dad knew this, and still demanded he cooked during the days he came home late. He took pleasure in yelling at Andrew, telling him that everything he did wasn’t good enough. Andrew took it all without complaint, his dad was looking for a response, and he wasn’t going to give him the joy of it if he could help so. And also maybe a small part of him was hoping that one day his dad would praise him, give him a tiny shred of love. 

Andrew hated the fact that he still loved his father, hated the fact that he tried so hard sometimes for his attention, hated that despite all the pain his dad caused he couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

“How was your day dad?” Andrew asked, not really wanting to know the answer but asking anyways because the silence was getting to him. 

“Shitty.” His father responded, not even looking up. 

“My day was fine, thanks for asking.” Andrew continued, shoving a forkful into his mouth and staring his father down. His dad glared up at him for a moment, before rolling his eyes and looking down at his food. Andrew sighed. 

“I’m going over to Charles again tomorrow.” He mentioned quietly after another minute of silence. 

“No you’re not.” His dad said, looking up and finally meeting Andrews eyes. 

“Why not? Your working late again and you won’t even notice I’m gone.” Andrew said, placing his fork down. He didn’t even want to go to Charles tomorrow, he had cheerleading practice after school. His dad tried to make him quit when he found out, but he couldn’t leave the team without their best base. So he went behind his father's back, making up excuses whenever there was practice or a game. 

“I don’t like how much time your spending at this Charles persons house.” His father grumbled, also putting his fork down. 

“Dad we’ve been friends for three years. You’ve never had a problem with it before.” He pointed out, knowing he should stop pushing. He knew this game, had been playing it for the past eight years. When his dad’s fists started clenching and his eyes flashed like that he shouldn’t push. That was his sign to stop, to back off and let his dad get what he wants. But he decided to just push a bit more, see how far he could get before his dad snapped and he had to back off or face a real fight. 

“Well, you’ve never had any girls over, what’s a father to think?” His dad said, throwing up his hands and grabbing the whiskey bottle and chugging from it. Andrew blinked for a moment before getting the implications. His cheeks were instantly stained red. 

“So what, you think I’m a homo?” He cried, his heart pounding. 

“Yes, I do! You’ve never done anything to show that I’m wrong and you’re already a massive fuck up. This is just one more thing to add onto the pile.” His dad snarled, standing up. Andrew stood too, knowing he should stop, but he found the raging fire inside his chest would not be put out so easily. 

“I can’t believe you.” Andrew scoffed. 

“So tell me I’m wrong.” His dad said, slamming the bottle down, the rest of the amber liquid had mysteriously disappeared. 

“Your wrong.” Andrew coolly lied. Trying to forget the nights Charles and him spent just sitting together hand in hand. He tried to forget the way Charles ran up to him after school a year ago, screaming that he passed his math and launched himself into Andrew’s arms. Tried to forget the way Charles had pressed their lips together in his mindless joy, tried to forget how Andrew wished he would do it again and again. 

His dad scoffed, turning away to leave the room. Andrew stepped around the table following him, sure yeah he was gay, but he had been so good at hiding it. So why did his dad think he could walk in and suddenly control his life?

“What, is that not good for you? You want me to screw every girl I meet and suddenly end up shackles to some dame because I knocked her up? Isn’t that what you did?” Andrew yelled, chasing after his father. He knew that he went to far immediately when his dad suddenly stopped. He never should have brought up his mom, he knew that was a sore spot. They had been forced into marriage since he knocked her up and then gave him a worthless fuck up as a son. He was never supposed to talk about his mother, or his brother, nothing to remind his dad of what he left behind.

His dad spun around, grabbing Andrews arm and twisting it behind his back, shoving Andrew against the wall so hard his head bounced off it and blood started pouring out of his now broken nose. Andrew didn’t dare move, his arm was pulled painfully behind his back, one movement away from being yanked out of the socket. 

“Do you know what I have done for you kid?” His dad hissed in his ear, and Andrew’s heart pounded, he knew that tone. 

“Took me away from my family and showered me in insults and an unsafe environment?” Andrew snarked, whimpering slightly as his dad yanked his arm further. Right, probably not a good time to talk back. 

“I have given you a home, took you away from a woman who was pampering you, treating you like some weak little girl, and I’ve tried to teach you how to be a man. And all you’ve done is ignore everything I say. You go off and fool around with boys like your dating them, you talk back, you join stupid girly sports.” His dad yelled at him, and Andrew resisted the urge to remind him that he also was the star player on his schools’ baseball and track team, not just a cheerleader. 

His dad suddenly let go, shoving him roughly against the wall and cackling when Andrew slid to the floor in pain. 

“Pansy.” He hissed, opening the front door and slamming it on his way out. 

Andrew took a deep breath, collecting himself enough to peel himself off the floor and walk up to his room. His shoulder and nose ached, no matter how much he iced them. He set his nose back from its broken state and mourned how it would probably ruin his look for the next few weeks. 

He crawled into bed, pulling the covers up and pretending like he wasn’t listening to every noise, waiting in fear for his father to burst into his room, screaming insults and fists flying. He didn’t sleep, just stared at the ceiling and ignored the tears running down his cheek and the intense longing for someone to hold him close. 

_____________________

His first mistake was inviting Charles back to his place after a good baseball game. He was still on an adrenaline high, his spirits soaring since he hit the finally three home runs, bringing his team their first win in the past month since he was unable to play. Charles was right beside him as the entire school congratulated him, and there was so many hands pushing at him, patting his back and ruffling his hair. He just wanted some alone time to bask in his victory so he quickly invited Charles over to his house, the other boy agreeing without hesitation.

They stumbled into his house, Charles laughing at some stupid joke Andrew said. His dad wouldn’t be home for at least another three hours, working the late shift again, so he had time to spend with Charles before he had to go. 

Their relationship was weird, they weren’t dating, god forbid. But they were close to that. Somewhere in the awkward stage between friends and lovers. They were only sixteen after all, well Charles had just turned seventeen a week ago, but that didn’t count. They did everything friends would do, they hung out and played games, fooled around and made fun of each other. But there was something else, an electricity that buzzed through him whenever the two of them touched, an unspoken thing that happened when they made eye contact. 

And let’s not forget the stolen kisses that happened every now and then, in empty classes, alleys on their way home, Charles bedroom after they spend an hour holding hands and just talking. Charles lips against his felt right, soft and sweet and wonderful. It almost felt like love. 

Andrew hated to think it, let alone say it. He knew love hurt, he remembered hearing his mom cry every night after his father stormed out, remembered how his mom gave up everything for a chance at love, her religion, her freedom, her sanity, all down the drain because of some stupid thing called love. But when faced with it, how could Andrew refuse?

He pushed all his thoughts out of his mind as Charles pulled him close, his fingers interlocking with his. Charles was slightly shorter, but he managed to press their foreheads together, their faces so close he could feel his friend’s hot breath against his lips. 

“Your amazing on bat.” His friend whispered, making Andrew chuckle. “And pitching, and running, and literally everything else.” 

Andrew blushed, still not used to the soft way Charles talked to him, the care and softness he put into every compliment. 

“The team was lost when your arm was injured, you really are their saving grace huh?” Charles laughed, and then their lips met, and Andrew forgot every worry inside of him. Charles lips were so soft, so warm, so alive under his. They fit together perfectly, making goosebumps litter every inch of his skin. 

Andrew grinned against Charles mouth, his hands reaching up to wrap around his friends, or whatever they were, neck. Charles copied him, one arm curling around his waist and the other reaching up to cup his cheek. 

Charles ran a hand through Andrews slightly sweaty hair, tugging it slightly and making Andrew gasp. 

Charles took advantage of that, shoving his tongue into Andrew's mouth to fully explore it. Andrew’s heart was pounding, they had never gone this far. All their other kisses only lasted a moment before the both pulled back, giggling and blushing like crazy. 

But now, Charles was pushing him up against a wall, his tongue in his mouth and his hand running through his hair. It stirred something deep inside. 

“Charles.” Andrew said pulling away from the man to regain his breath. Charles simply smiled, his pupils blown wide as he started kissing down Andrew's neck. 

Andrew’s breath stuttered and he quickly ran his hand through Charles hair before yanking his friend head up and pressing their lips together once more. Charles fingers quickly started undoing the buttons on Andrews shirt, and Andrew made no move to stop him. 

This was something he wanted. He cared about Charles, a lot. They had known each other for almost four years, and now? Now he felt like nothing could stop him. If this felt so right who was everyone else to tell him it was wrong?

The answer came in the front door suddenly slamming open, his father walking in and staring in shock and surprise at his son. Andrew wondered how big of a shock it must have been, seeing his son pressed up against a wall, his shirt half undone and his hair messy, his lips swollen from the time they spent kissing and a boy in his arms.

The shock lasted for a few seconds before the anger came in. Andrew quickly shoved Charles behind him, instinctually sheltering him as his father came storming at him. The first hit always hurt the most, the slap hitting his cheek and sending him stumbling. 

“You little fairy!” His dad screamed, slamming his son against the wall before tossing him to the ground. After that it was hit after hit, kick after kick raining down on his body. Slur after slur thrown at him until he was sobbing and begging him to stop. 

His father did, stepping back and glaring down at his son, who was curled into a ball, his face swollen and arm broken. 

His dad stormed off, and neither Charles or him dared move, both frozen to the spot with fear. 

His dad came back in moments later, a suitcase in his hand. He threw it down at his sons cowered form. 

“Get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see your worthless face again.” his dad snarled, and Andrew raced to comply. “You’re such a disappointment.” his father said softly before storming out. 

Somehow that last sentence hurt more than ever hit, every name. Andrew picked himself off the floor and grabbed his case, grabbing Charles arm and pulling them out the door. His heart was still racing and everything hurt, but Andrew managed to keep standing despite all odds.

They walked to the street in silence before Charles broke it. 

“What the hell man?” he hissed, and Andrew looked up in surprise. His heart broke when he saw something close to anger in his friends’ eyes. “How could you do that? Why did you invite me over if you knew your dad was going to show up?” 

Andrew scoffed, pissed that Charles would even attempt to blame this on him. 

“He isn't supposed to be home for another two hours. You would've been long gone by then.” He said, wincing as the split on his lip reopened, sending blood pouring down his lips. “But this is a good thing, I can get a motel down the road and we can be free. I don't have to worry about him catching us, and we can have a place to just be ourselves without sneaking around with your parents too.” 

Andrew tried to smile, tried to pretend like this all could work out. Tried to pretend like he wasn't screaming on the inside, like every limb was aching in pain and his heart wasn't bleeding with the rest of him. 

“No!” Charles cried, suddenly laughing maniacally. “You can't pretend like this is some fairy-tale Andrew.” 

Andrew flinched back slightly at the sound of his friend yelling, he didn't understand. He thought Charles felt the same way he did. Something deep inside his chest pulled painfully, and Andrew wasn’t sure that he could blame it on his bruised ribs.

“This? Between us? Was nothing. You’re just my friend and god I just wanted to experiment to see if guys was something I’d be into. And your cute, you really are. Pretty enough to be girl.” Charles voice cracked as he was talking, and Andrews heart cracked with it. 

“But, Charlie, I thought- I thought that maybe, god I don't know what I thought.” Andrew stammered, not knowing what to say. What would truly sum up the pain spiking through his chest.

He thought they could work? That they would be a couple? That the spark he felt whenever he was around him was love? That maybe Charles loved him too? 

“What Andrew, you thought we could fall in love? Live our lives together?” Charles was hysterical again, his hands flying around and making Andrew flinch like he was expecting to be hit. Maybe he was, at least that was something he knew. 

“No, Andrew you were simply some fun. I'm sorry I led you on but you were just something new, a good kisser I could practice on, someone to lean on, a good friend. Your just some stupid fun and now you're ruining my life!” Charles screamed, like he hadn't just hadn’t shoved his tongue down Andrew’s throat, had his hands in Andrew's hair, like he wasn't half hard before his dad walked in. 

“I've ruined your life.” Andrew said in a monotone, because Charles wasn’t the one without a loving family to go home to, because Charles had a dad that didn't hate him and a mom and sibling who he could actually see and spend time with. 

“Yes, Andrew what happens if your dad tells my parents? They'll never look at me the same again. What if this gets to school, I'll be kicked off the soccer team, lose my entire future!” Charles said, and Andrew was suddenly aware that they were both crying. 

“Well I’m sorry I caused you so much harm Charles.” Andrew mocked, falling back onto the only thing he knew, anger. “Sorry that I got you into so much trouble, that I’m just some pretty boy who you wanted to get some practice on. God, did I ever mean anything to you? Even as a friend? Or was our entire friendship a sham?” Andrew screamed, his voice cracking every few words because he was so goddamn tired. Tired of his life falling apart under him, tired of screaming, of hurting. 

“No, I, Andy.” Charles stuttered, finally using the stupid nickname he always did. Andrew didn't let it get to him, well he tried not to let it get to him. “Look, we'll talk more about this later okay? I'm tired, I want to go home. I'll talk to you after school tomorrow and we can clear up the air okay?” 

Charles was suddenly walking away, like there was going to be a tomorrow. Like they would see each other at school the next day like nothing happened.

“Hey Charlie?” Andrew called out right before Charles was at the hilltop leading towards his house. The other boy said nothing, only turned around. Andrew couldn't see the look in his eyes, it was probably for the best. “I don't regret the time we had. And I'm glad we had it no matter what you say.” Andrew called out, turning around quickly and walking away before he could change his mind.

Charles didn't reply. 

Andrew found himself at the bus station an hour later, his limbs shaking and the tears not yet dried on his cheeks. He must have looked like hell, with blood staining his shirt and bruises covering every inch of him. 

But the man at the station didn't say a thing as Andrew handed him some money he had stolen off his dad. He had around two hundred saved up, money stolen out of wallets and odd places around the house when Andrew knew his dad wouldn't notice. 

And soon he was on the next bus to New York. Tears running down his face as he watched the town he had called a home for the past nine years blur as he passed it. 

He took a deep breath and pushed everything down. He started to build up a wall, trying in vain to protect his heart from everything. From the dull ache of his wounds and clearly broken arm. From the sting of betrayal he still felt as Charles words slowly cut into him. He pushed it all down, ignoring the fact that he had just managed to lose two people he loved in the span of an hour. 

He chuckled to himself, wiping the last tear from his swollen cheek. 

Love was stupid anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short and kind of sucks but I just really wanted to introduce Cordelia in that I panicked and wrote this shitty thing. Also, I got so tired of accidently typing out Whizzer then having to erase it that I just kind of forced this chapter.
> 
> Um, warning for heavily implied sexual content that is clearly underaged.

_“Dear mom,  
I left home. Or well that’s how I’m putting it. I’m on my way back to New York, not really sure why. I don’t expect to see you or David there, but I’ve heard it’s a good place to go when your outrunning your feelings.  
Well, in this case I’m running towards my feeling because New York seems like the place to be free of judgement. But then again who knows. I’m writing this on a bus in the middle of the night, I have my suitcase by my feet and I paid for it using the money I stole from my dad. I don’t really feel too bad about the last part. Maybe I should. But he was a dickhead.   
Either way, my stops coming up soon. New York here I come.   
Love, Andrew”_

 

New York was nothing like he remembered it as a kid. 

When he was young it was a place of dreams, a place filled with busy stores and dreamy skies. Now, it was almost overwhelming, people crowded him from all sides, everyone pushing and shoving and rushing and leaving him feeling like he was forgetting something. 

He didn’t have a place to stay yet, his small amount of money not enough to even get him a motel here, let alone an actual place. He had found a nice alley that stayed relatively dry, it rained here constantly, and found out that if he moved around enough people would ignore him. 

Sure, he was cold, his clothing was wrinkled even though he washed it often, and he was barely getting any sleep. He was terrified at night, he was sixteen, living on the streets and if someone decided to mug him, it would be over. 

It's getting colder, the season turning into fall and Andrew quickly learns that his thin jacket isn't enough. But it fits, because the cold makes it easier to forget, to learn how to repress and hide everything inside. 

Then, one day while he’s wandering around outside, he is too busy watching the skyline change colors when suddenly someone runs into him, knocking Andrew onto his ass. 

“Hey!” Andrew starts, ready to yell, when he looks up and meets the stranger’s eyes. 

The guy has to be at least mid twenties, with dark black hair and equally dark eyes. His lips are parted slightly as he apologizes, reaching down to help Andrew up. Andrew blushes slightly, before remembering where he was. 

“You should be more careful about where you're going mister.” The stranger says with a snarky smile. His hand is still holding onto Andrews. “The name’s Nick.”

“Andrew.” He replies, watching as Nick gives him a once over, and there is no heterosexual answer to the flicker of interest that shines in his eyes. “And you can’t talk seeing as your the one who rudely knocked me over.”

The man laughs, his hand leaving Andrew’s. 

“You look like a disaster kid; do you want to come to my place for a bit? I can make you a coffee to repay for running into you.” 

Andrew debated denying, leaving and never looking back. But the offer of a warm place, a warm coffee and a little bit of human decency lures him in. 

“I would love to.” He replied, following Nick as they walk towards the nearby studios. Nick lead him to what appeared to be some kind of martial arts studio, punching bags and mats laying on the ground. They engage in small talk, mostly about Nick’s business, apparently he helps train people in karate. Andrew can’t pretend that he’s not interested. 

“I can, you know, maybe teach you a few things.” Nick offered after catching Andrew staring longingly at the punching bag with his coffee in hand. Andrew wasn’t actually drinking it, more of a tea fan, and found that he really didn’t mind putting it down to follow Nick to the mats. 

Nick lead him through the moves, teaching him how to hold his hands so his thumb wouldn’t break (learned the hard way and he was now nursing a sore thumb), how to kick properly, and how to use his ridiculously long legs to his advantage. Karate wasn’t anything like he thought, it was dirt and cheap. Nick taught him the best way to take down attackers, the best places to hit and how to hit them. 

It was more self defense than anything, although Nick did teach him how to jump kick, which was exhilarating. After a couple of hours, Nick was just getting to the last lesson. 

He instructed Andrew to lay down, and before Andrew could protest the man straddled him, leaning down so his arm was across his neck and his face and inch away from his. 

Andrew let out a slightly startled noise, not expecting to be so close to the other man so soon. 

“Get me off of you.” Nick said, his voice suddenly different. It was no longer light hearted but deep and smooth. Demanding and needy almost. It made him breathless. 

Not knowing exactly how to kick the man off, he bucked his hips to the side, twisting in vain to get the stronger and heavier man away from him. It was useless, he couldn’t do anything, his feet sliding on the floor in an attempt to find leverage. Nick laughed at his pitiful attempts. 

Then in one smooth moment, Nick grabbed him and flipped them over until suddenly Andrew was the one on top. Not really knowing what to do, he just sat there waiting for Nick to do something. 

“The first thing you have to do is distract them, break their concentration.” Nick says lowly, holding Andrews arm and pulling him close, Andrew blinks but doesn’t react. Nick’s face is a foot away from his, and if he just leaned forwards enough, maybe he could get something out of this night. 

“Then you need a lever for control.” Nick whispered, and Andrew felt Nicks foot hook around his, and then before Andrew could even process it Nick was bucking his hips, swiping his foot from under him and Andrew was slammed into the ground, Nick rolling on top of him with a victorious smile. 

“Then you flip.” He said with a cocky smile, before carefully climbing off of him. Andrew frowned at the loss of heat. 

He got up, and suddenly Nick was grabbing his arms, pulling him close. 

“Do you want to stay the night kid?” He whispered into Andrew’s ear, making him shiver. “No one as pretty as you should be wandering the streets late at night. It’s cold out there.” Nick was practically purring, and Andrew didn’t have it in him to refuse.

Wasn’t this what he wanted? A warm place to sleep? A warm body pressed against his? If that’s what he wanted why did he feel so cold? Like he was waiting for someone to jump out and yell at him, to hit him. 

Nick lead him into what appeared to be his bedroom, and suddenly they were kissing, Nicks lips pressed hungrily to his and it leave Andrew breathless in the worst and best way. 

Nick pushed him towards the bed, making Andrew stumble as he fell back, Nick falling on top of him. Andrew pulled away slightly, staring into Nick’s dark eyes. “I’ve never really,” Andrew starts before Nick cuts him off with a kiss. 

“I know, your too young. Barely even look a day over twenty. I’m your first huh?” Nick asks softly, and Andrew wants to tell him the truth, tell him how he was seventeen (his birthday was last week, he celebrated by sitting alone in the rain with the cheapest cupcake he could find.) and that this was probably illegal in multiple ways. 

But Nick kissed him again and told him to take it easy and Andrew forgot all his protests. 

___________________

The next few weeks were what Andrew could call easy. He works at Nick’s studio, helping train bored kids who families had too much money, at night he would sleep in the same bed as Nick, but they never had sex after the first night. Maybe Nick was already bored of him, maybe Nick had someone else he was seeing, but Andrew didn’t mind. He had a warm place to stay and a warm meal every night. He was content. 

“Andrew, can you go get us some fresh bread? We’re out.” Nick says sounding almost bored like he wanted Andrew out. Andrew agreed with a nod and a quick kiss to Nick’s cheek. Nick said often that they were dating, Andrew wasn’t so sure of that. Sure they kissed and spent time together, but there was no spark, no nothing. Most days Andrew felt like something cold had crept into his chest, hollowing him out and just waiting for something to come light it up. 

The nearest bakery was only two minutes away, but Andrew felt like going for a walk. He wandered down the streets, trying to shake the emptiness he felt inside. 

He was bored. 

He came to New York to do something new, start a life for himself, distance himself from the pain of his past life. But still he felt trapped, trapped with a man who called him Andrew and expected too much from him. Trapped lying and sweet talking his way through everything. 

He wanted something new, exciting, a change of pace, something worth living for.

He sighed, walking into the first bakery he saw and wandering up to the counter. A pretty blonde stood behind it, humming a small tune while dancing, seemingly unaware that Andrew was standing there. Andrew smiled, watching her for a moment. There was something nice about it, seeing someone so carefree and happy and living in the moment, it was exactly what he wanted.

“Um, hi?” Andrew said with a small smile, startling the blonde as she turned to face him. She was pretty, not his type of course, but her hair was curled to perfection and her blue eyes twinkled with embarrassment and joy. She looked around his age, just fresh outta high school.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t notice you there, can I help you?” She asked, her voice light and unashamed at being caught doing something embarrassing in front of a stranger. 

“Um yeah, just some white bread please.” He asked, and she turned around to grab it. “Is it normally this empty this time of day?” He asked carefully, looking around pointedly at the store. There was no one except the two of them. 

“Well, no. Normally there’s tons of people here, but you seem to be scaring them all away.” She teased lightly, ringing his total up. 

“Weird, normally people flock whenever I’m around.” Andrew said with a grin. “I’m sure with a face like that your used to that kind of attention.” 

She snorted, glaring at him without any heat. “Why you almost sound like your flirting.” She mocked, tossing a pinch of flour at him. “I’ll have to regretfully tell you you’re not my type.” 

Andrew snorted, not really meaning to flirt but enjoying the banter. “Really? Pretty boy with great style isn’t your type? Shocker.” He states, paying and grabbing his bag but not leaving yet. 

“Well, you are pretty,” She starts looking him up and down in an exaggerated manner that was surely mocking. “But you’re a guy, and I’m looking for someone without a dick thanks.” She sasses, and Andrew’s grin widens after a moment of surprise. 

“Oh well I can’t say I agree with that statement.” He says before he can think and the girls grin widens. 

“Always nice to meet another like me,” She said, sticking out a hand for him to shake. “The names Cordelia.”

Andrew shakes it, hesitating for a moment. Was this not what he wanted? Something new? A friend who understood his struggle?

“The names Whizzer.” He blurts out before he can debate it. The name of his childhood superhero falling from his lips before he could stop it. This was the change he wanted, the final breaking free of plain old Andrew Jacobs. “Whizzer Brown.” 

The name feels right, like a weight flew off his shoulder just by saying it. 

“Whizzer huh?” Cordelia asks, almost like she knows it’s fake. “Well, why don’t you come back here tomorrow and we can go out for drinks?” She asks, and he grins.

“Now who’s flirting with who?” He snarks, but nods. “I look forwards to it Cordelia, you're fun.”

And with that Andrew, no Whizzer, walks out of the store. Feeling lighter than he had in ages. 

This was going to work out. He always landed on his feet after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments they make me happy to know if you guys hate this or like it or think I should die in a hole and never write anything ever again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the word document holding all my work got deleted? So I have to re write all of it and I'm not to happy about that. Either way, here's a chapter that I kind of hate but posted anyways because why not

“Dear mom,  
I’m going to keep this letter short, because I got class in a few minutes. But surprise! I got into college! It’s a long story, but I really never thought I would get here, especially since I never really finished high school, its truly a wonder what can happen when you have the right connections.  
Either way, I’m going for a few things. I want to be a photographer, taking photos has always ben a passion of mine. I wish you could see some of the photos I’ve taken. Delia says their the prettiest she’s ever seen, but she also tells me I’m a good cook so I think she’s lying.  
I started working at a store down the road, it isn’t the most fun, and I have to skip a lot just for classes, but it gets the bills paid and keeps me fed. Which is enough. It helps me meet a lot of people though, my friend group is branching out. I’m not dating anyone though, I don’t think I will in a while. That kind of relationship just doesn’t appeal to me.  
Either way, I have friends, a job, and I’m working towards a major which I love. I’m happy mom, or at least I’m getting there.  
I think you would be proud of me, I really do.  
Love, your son.”

Everyone told him not to take the 8am classes, told him that they seem like a good idea at the time but in reality it would wear him out quickly. 

They were right. 

Whizzer dragged himself to his feet, quickly shoving on some clothes that looked good together and spending an absurd amount of time on his hair. Glancing at the clock, he cursed. If he hate he would be late, so he headed out the door, his stomach already grumbling at him. 

It was going to be a long day.

After his last class he dragged himself down to a coffee shop, still slightly pissed after and argument with a student who had a stick up his ass. The tea helped him settle down his nerves, and he slowly made his way down to Cordelia’s place. 

He had been close friends with Cordelia ever since they met in the bakery almost four years ago. They bonded over shared experiences of discovering their homosexuality, but also the fact that they fit together perfectly. His snark evened out with her sweetness, and her bluntness evened out with his charm. All in all the two had remained friends for years. She had invited him over the last time they met up, insisting that it was a surprise. 

He had no idea what she was planning, but her spontaneousness was something he loved about her. 

He arrived at her apartment, walking in as if he owned the place. He might as well have due to the amount of time he spent there. He often stayed with her when his apartment was breaking down in some way, heater was broken, lock was snapped, no matter what, she insisted he stayed there. 

He knocked on the door, brushing a speck of dust off his jacket as he waited. A second later it opened, reviling a very messy Cordelia, who smiled brightly at him. Her hair was out of it’s normal perfect wave, flour littered her face and batter was splashed all over her apron.

“Whizz! There you are, come in.” She stepped back before rushing off, leaving him on his own. He quickly took off his jacket, wandering half-heartedly after her. 

Going through Cordelia’s apartment was always a surprise, seeing the pictures of her with her family, laughing and smiling and hugging them. Seeing him and her in photos littered around also made his heart feel suspiciously tight. 

He finally made his way to the kitchen where Cordelia disappeared, pushing the door open and walking in.

Inside, Cordelia stood behind a large rainbow cake with a smile on her face.

“What is this?” He asked, smiling as he walked closer. He couldn’t think of any reason she would randomly make him a huge rainbow cake, not that he was complaining.

“Well, it’s your birthday in a week and I wanted to do something special since I kind of planned something without meaning too and I feel really bad about it.” Cordelia said, her words rushed as she fidgeted. 

A small part of him wanted to be mad that she made plans on his birthday, his 21st birthday too, but the other half was too ridiculously happy at a god damn rainbow cake to care. 

“It’s beautiful, thanks.” He said, quickly running to grab two forks. 

“What, no plates?” Cordelia teased, grabbing a fork from his hand nothing less. 

“Plates are for the weak Delia.” He snorted, before digging his fork in and shovelling it into his mouth. 

They spent the night together, watching videos and looking through photo albums until dinner, where they went out to the cheapest place they could and Whizzer flirted with the waiter until they got kicked out. 

All in all Whizzer was the happiest he had been in ages, a smile permanently stuck on his face as he wrapped and arm around Cordelia as they walked back home. 

“So, I have to ask, who is so important that your ditching me on my birthday?” He asked, hip checking her slightly. 

“I have a date.” She replied, rolling her eyes and pushing him back. 

“Ooh, is it that cute doctor you’ve been telling me about?” He asked with a smile, a devious glint in his eyes. 

“She’s not a doctor yet, and maybe.” Cordelia replied, slipping out of his arms. “Race you back to my place.” She challenged, taking off before Whizzer could reply. 

He laughed, taking after her, easily catching up and sweeping her off his feet and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She squealed, punching his back and kicking her legs. Whizzer cackled, dumping her softly onto the grass before taking off again, making it to the apartment in no time. Cordelia followed in a moment, her cheeks red and slightly out of breath. 

“You’re a dick.” She said, pouting. 

“Yup.” He replied, kissing her cheek. “I have to go, have an early shift tomorrow. Night Delia.” He said, walking back towards his apartment. 

It seemed so lonely compared to hers, he realized as he stepped in. Sure, it was smaller in the first place, he could only afford a small studio that held a tiny kitchenette and a bed. It reminded him of the hotels he sued to stay in as a kid when him and his dad went traveling. Unlike Cordelia’s, there was no happy family portraits, just pictured of friends and other sights he’s seen stuffed into scrapbooks in case he gets evicted. 

His apartment wasn’t his home, but it was all that he had.

He sighed, laying down and trying to picture Cordelia smile and hear her laugh, maybe then he could replicate the happiness he felt. Everything was so different in the dark, the cold blanketed him as he lay there. 

He was about as happy as he could get, but the empty space inside of him remained, only getting filled up when he was surrounded by his various friends. But at times like this, when he was all alone in bed clutching the blankets close and pretending like nothing bothered him, the reality always set in.

He needed a change of pace, something new. At first college was enough, Cordelia convinced him to get his GED and enroll and he was happy again, his life filled by constant schooling and sports. But now, it was boring. Bland. He thought it before and he will probably think it a million times again, he just wasn’t content with the life he had. 

Maybe things will change, hopefully things will change. 

 

Whizzer wasn’t really one for the whole dating scene. 

He had dated a few men, that’s for sure. But something about it left him unbalanced, on uneven footing. 

They were just so, nice. 

They kissed his cheek and held him close, whispering sweet little nothings in his ear. They would take him out to fancy restaurants and pepper him with compliments and gifts. They would run their hands down his arms and stare lovingly into his eyes, smiling softly at him as if he was their entire world. 

He didn’t know how to deal with that. Didn’t know how to return that love, to hold them just as close and make them feel wanted. Because he was a naturally mean person, carved of ice, all hard edges and angles. He didn’t know how to be soft. Most of his relationships fizzled into nothing, fading because he had no idea what to do, how to hold that kind of relationship. The kind of relationship that held no spark, made no fire ignite in his chest.

So when he turned twenty-one and found himself in a bar, something changed. He found the first man who held him close but also rough, who kissed him like a man dying, who left bruises on his hips and bite marks on his neck. It felt better that way, to be dominated, to have to fight for control, for power. 

And when he started seeing a man named Conner who spit names at him, who pushed him around and left him feeling insecure and worthless, Whizzer just smiled and finally felt at home. 

Because this is what he knew. He didn’t know how to handle softness, love, care, he only knew anger. It was what he grew up with, what he faced countless days of. He could meet the insults, he could dig just as deep and hurt people just as much, he was in his element there. He had just as much power over Conner as Conner had over him. It was a constant fight, one that often-left Whizzer sore and hurting but begging for more. Cordelia hated it, begged him to leave Conner before he got hurt. 

But he didn’t. He never really understood why. Why he felt the need to stay and accept this cruel treatment.

Or maybe he did. Maybe he was always looking for that tiny slice of home, that small reminder that he had more to work for, that he wasn’t perfect and wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Maybe he secretly wanted someone to hurt him, to carve into his skin and make him feel alive again.

In the end, it was Conner who left him, saying that he wanted something new. Whizzer wasn’t too sad, just found himself in another bar looking for the same roughness as before. He graduated soon after, and he was the happiest he had been in a while. Smiling and holding Cordelia close, laughing and fooling around with the rest of his friends, young and hopeful for the future. She took off to fulfill her baking career, and soon they fell out of contact, only calling once every couple of months. 

He wouldn’t pretend that the loss of his best friend didn’t hurt, but life took them in two different directions, he had to respect that. He was proud of her, proud of how far she had gotten herself.

His life became a routine after that, go to work, take some photos with his polaroid, walk around town, end up at the bar every few nights to screw multiple guys. 

Sometimes he would take a step back and would be disappointed with what he saw. 

He knew he slept around too much, really he slept with anyone he could. Old, young, rich, nice guys and assholes, it didn’t matter to him. He met them, flirted, ended up either in the bathroom or in their bed. 

People often thought he was a prostitute, offering him money after he sucked them off or let them fuck him. And he took the money, pushed back the shame and took it because money was money. He was becoming nothing more than a pretty boy, no good for anything.

He didn't care about decency, hell he had slept with married men a few times, the tan lines on their fingers a dead give away. But if they wanted to ruin their lives, who was he to judge? If they didn't do it with him they would find the next available pretty boy and screw them instead. So why feel guilty?

The lack of shame was the worst, when he was home alone for the first time in days he sat there and tried to feel guilty. To shame himself and what he was doing. But he couldn't. He still craved men, still craved the bruises and the soreness after a good fuck. 

He couldn't bring himself to resent it, so he screwed guy after guy and pretended to have feelings and ignored the sting deep inside his chest when his friends started to leave to live out their perfect lives. 

He craved change and he guessed he got it.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Dear mom,_  
Last letter I said you would be proud of me. I lied. You would be so fucking disappointed in me, you wouldn’t even recognize me if I slapped you in the face.  
I changed my name you know, I didn’t write about it because I was still scared. But screw being scared. I go by Whizzer now, remember that name? You bought me that comic, the one I read almost everyday. My childhood hero is now the name I choose to identify as a fucked-up adult. How fitting. I just couldn’t stand hearing that stupid name every day “Andrew do this” “Andrew do that” it made me stick mom. But that isn’t even close to the worst thing I’ve ever done.  
Remember how when I was little and dad came home from work, his knuckles bloody and a crazed smile on his face? He went on and on about how his co worked came to work with his boyfriend, how he beat him to a pulp after work and left him on the street, going on a tirade about homo’s and how no respectable son of his would ever be a fag like that. He took me by my arm and yelled in my face, getting me to promise to never become like that. Do you remember? Remember how I agreed, to scared to deny him what he wanted. Remember that? Because surprise! I’m gay mom. A queer through and though. I like boys, I like kissing them, I like screwing them in dirty bathrooms, I like staring at them and like them staring back at me.  
But that’s not all, no your son isn’t only queer, but he’s a fucking whore too. Sometimes I need the money, so I blow a guy or two, a filthy screw for a couple of bucks. And I don’t regret a thing. Your innocent little boy turned into someone dirty. A pretty boy for people to stare at. I don’t even want commitment you know? I’m fine just screwing guy after guy, ruining relationships and leaving them in the dust. Because love is a stupid fairy tale spun for gullible kids. Love and marriage only leads to pain, to shouting and heartbreak and shackles holding you down. It’s much easier to just go from boy to boy.  
God, you must hate me. Must think I’m disgusting and worthless. Just a dirty asshole that should be left for dead. But I’m still kicking mom, still out and proud and ready to fight anyone who dares cross me. I’m just so mad all the time, so unsatisfied and lonely that it hurts. School is my only reprieve, not even my friends can make me happy. Maybe I deserve it, this unhappiness. Afterall, god serves out punishment for all those who sin.  
Whizzer” __

__“Such a pretty boy.” The stranger purred into his ear, running his fingers through his impeccable hair. Whizzer moaned, the sensation making him press closer to the stranger, Lance? Logan? Ray? He couldn’t remember his name, getting lost instead on his hands and the way his hands roamed all over Whizzer, tearing him apart and putting him together at the same time._ _

__They met at the bar, the stranger buying him a drink before kissing him silly, making Whizzer forget all about his El Guapo in favor for letting this man take him to the washroom._ _

__They finished quickly, the man giving him one last searing kiss before slipping out of the bathroom. Whizzer checked himself in the mirror, rearranging his hair and clothes before following, going back and finding his abandoned drink._ _

__He looked around the bar, finding the guy from earlier eyes and winking at him before walking out. He had work the next day, no matter how much he wanted to stay and get drunk and screw around some more. He was sated for the night, feeling light and content as he walked down the bar._ _

__He looked up at the stars, his breath almost knocked away at how beautiful they were. He was pretty far out of the city, a good twenty-minute walk back, and the stars were out in full force. It was rare sight to see, the moon, the stars. It made him smile._ _

__His good mood was ruined when a car came up behind him, honking its horn as three college aged kids leaned out to call slurs at him. Whizzer flipped them off, indifferent to the abuse. He got it all the time, being an open and proud gay man did have a few perks, the man in the bar for example, but it was also far from easy. Whizzer watched them drive away, his mood lowering as he stood there._ _

__He tried to not let the words get to him, normally brushed them off, but now it made him want to go back to the bar and drink himself to sleep. But eh had a client coming in tomorrow, a nice family that wanted a nice photo to hang in their room. So he couldn’t, despite the want to._ _

__He hated his job. He really did. He loved being a photographer, but taking portraits? Forcing a family into a position that made them look happy, watching people put on fake smiled and hold people close as a reminder of their fake love, it hurt to look at. It hurt to see so many unhappy people trapped in something they clearly didn’t like. They would file in and pretend to be happy for a good twenty minutes while he took a photo, then they would go home and hang it on their empty walls and an empty promise of their empty love._ _

__People always told him that one day he would find the right person, would settle down with a good guy and learn the true joy of marriage and commitment. But after watching people live such unsatisfying lives, watching people be so damn unhappy with where they were, how can he want that? Why would he when he could just screw around and get the same benefits._ _

__He was just so mad at the world sometimes, always on uneven grounding_ _

__Doing family portraits sucked ass, but it gave him money, and that was the good part. Sleeping with his apartment landlord was just plain unsatisfying, he liked just being able to pay._ _

__He stood in the doorway of his apartment, his mood dropping by ten percent as he sighed._ _

__Here he was, almost twenty-five and still screwing around for fun. He got his money from both men who thought he was some kind of prostitute and from countless clients overpaying him for a good photo. He was satisfied, and that’s what upset him the most._ _

__He knew that he wasn’t cut out for everyday life, he was gay, refused to commit, he was all smiles and confident words._ _

__He learned how to push his feeling down and he was fine with pretending to be heartless. A cocky smile, a nice laugh, that was all he needed._ _

__He lay in bed, vaguely wishing he brought someone to cuddle with him. But he didn’t, and the bed was just as cold as it was last night._ _

__He found he cared a lot more than he should about that._ _

_____________________________ _

__Look into the mirror, check your hair, check your teeth, check you weight. If everything looks good your allowed to leave, if not, alter everything your doing until everything is right again._ _

__Whizzer lived by that simple mantra. Everything had to be perfect. He wasn’t called a pretty boy for nothing. People always assumed he was nothing but some good looks, a pretty face in a pretty little package. He did nothing to counter that fact. He suited his recreations perfectly, he screwed around and played the stupid little toy. It got him what he wanted in the end, that was enough._ _

__Sure sometimes it hurt when people ignored his opinion because he was ‘too pretty to be smart’ or when people laughed at him when he tried to contribute to anything other than sex._ _

__But at the end of the day that’s what he was, a simple pretty boy with a pretty smile._ _

__Tonight was his weekend off, he had no work for the next three days, so he figured he might as well go out to the bar and screw as many guys as he could, and the luckiest one he would take home._ _

__He bounced around for a bit, flirting with whoever caught his eye but only taking one or two to the bathroom. There was something off about that night, an energy that cackled under his skin, telling him something important was going to happen._ _

__That’s when the man came up to him._ _

__He wasn’t exactly Whizzer’s type, more of a dad aesthetic than anything, but something kept and held Whizzer’s interest, something he couldn’t quite narrow down._ _

__“Can I buy you a drink?” The man asked, a small smile on his face. He obviously wasn’t a regular here, Whizzer had never seen him before and he held himself like he was trying to impress someone. A closet case then, still trying to out man every other man in the room._ _

__He wanted to deny, sure closet cases were fun, but swore them off a while ago, too much panic, too much drama. But something about this one made his lips turn up into a charming smile and quickly say. “Course sweetheart.”_ _

__The man grinned back, looking fairly delighted that Whizzer agreed. He waved the bartender over, ordering the most expensive beer they had and Whizzer ordered the fruitiest._ _

__“So, what brings you here today? Wife gone for the weekend?” Whizzer purred, leaning in close to the man, who flushed bright red and lost his composure for a second. He counted it as a win._ _

__“You’re not actually that curious are you?” The man asked, his compose regained and a determined look on this face. So he was a winner huh, already battling back against him. Whizzer could see him having some fun with this._ _

__He leaned closer, placing a hand on the man’s thigh and ignoring the way his leg jumped under his palm. He was very close to the man, who’s face mercifully remained stoic the entire time. “I’m just curious to see if your place will be open tonight.” Whizzer said innocently, quickly darting forwards to kiss the man right beside his mouth._ _

__He pulled back right as the bartender walked up and placed down a drink, letting the man stare at him in surprise. He grabbed his drink and carefully put the straw in his mouth, making a point of rolling it around his lips for a bit as the handsome stranger watched._ _

__“I was thinking more your place.” The man said with an easy smile, and Whizzer grinned. It wasn’t like he expected anything else._ _

__“Of course, finish up your drink and we can get going.” Whizzer said, sipping the last of his drink and giving the man a pointed look. The man quickly downed his drink, and Whizzer took the opportunity to really look the man over._ _

__Defiantly a closet case, he could see the faint marks that only come from a wedding ring on his finger, but they were so faint that either this man went on a lot of affairs, which was unlikely since he was blushing like a schoolgirl, or the marriage ended recently or wasn’t going well._ _

__Either way, there was nothing really remarkable about this man, but at the same time Whizzer saw a challenge, he was drawn to him like a fly to the light, Whizzer knew immediately that this man was something else. Something worth getting to know_ _

__“What’s your name sweetheart?” Whizzer asked when the man finished, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him flush against him. Their mouths were inches apart, and Whizzer watched as the man stared down at them for a moment before flickering them back up. Whizzer couldn’t help but notice the small flecks of dark blue swimming in them._ _

__“You can call me Marvin.”_ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write in the first place, nailing act one Marvin and Whizzer is hard as an asexual who hates confrontation. But I also had to re write this chapter so that's why it took me forever. Sorry!!
> 
> I wrote this chapter in the perspective of Whizzer and Marvin in the beginnings of their relationship. So they fight and solve all of their problems with sex, but their still in the sort of 'honeymoon' phase. Where theri both trying to make it work and Marvin isn't as stressed and isn't being punched by reality as hard as he is a few months later. So if this seems sort of 'too nice of a relationship' just wait until next chapter. This is based mostly off of the fact that it's clear that despite not showing it, Whizzer claims that he did love Marvin. And if Marvin acted like he did in the musical then sorry but there's no way Whizzer would have fallen for him. So I kind of imagined that they were a lot softer once? I don't know it's late and I'm rambling.

_“Dear mom,  
Commitment. It has always been something I detest, something I had spoken about a million times to you. Something I swore off ages ago for screwing guy after guy after guy. But guess what mom? I broke my rule. _

_His name is Marvin, and honestly I have no idea what I’m doing here. He was marriage for god’s sake. Has a cute little kid to. And I ruined that, well not really. His marriage was ruined a long time before I got there, I just gave him a reason. And honestly, it’s been almost half a year and I don’t know what I’m doing._

_Marvin is like a fire. It’s the only way to describe it. He matches me in passion, fighting back with hit after hit until we’re both screaming and yelling and burning up everything in our way. An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object. He asked me to move in a month ago and it’s going to end in a catastrophe._

_Don’t get me wrong mom, he’s as close to wonderful as I can find. When he smiles at some silly joke I made it makes me feel like I have fire under my fingertips. He light’s me up when he grins like a little kid and sprouts stupid little facts about chess or science. I pretend like I don’t care, but hearing his gush makes me kind of soft. He’s warm and charming and makes me feel like I’m worth the effort, worth the drama and everything that comes with it. Again, like a fire, he keeps me burning day and night.  
But sometimes he burns to brightly. His temper is out of control, and we fight constantly. Normally our fights are just silly little fights that end with one of use breaking and leading the other to bed, but sometimes it gets to much. He plays games with me, keeps me hoping only to cut me off. He calls me funny names, makes me feel like an idiot and belittles me. He makes me so damn mad that I can’t function. But I keep going back. He’s mean and spiteful, but then again I guess I am too. _

_I know that everything he does it either out of self loathing or some form of internalized homophobia or anger that has been festering for years. He needs love, practically begs me to love him, to show him my heart. But I can’t, I want to mom. I want to try and love him, because a part of me feels myself falling for him a little. But I can’t mom, I do small little things, but every time the opportunity comes something inside of me halts and I find myself unable to form words._

_I’m not in the wrong though, he doesn’t love me. Not truly, he can’t. He says he does, says that I’m everything that he wants and more. He can’t expect me to show him love, to hold his hand and call him darling while he won’t return the favor. He can’t expect me to love him when he doesn’t love me back._

_I should leave, I ruined his life, ruined his wife and child’s life, but I can’t. He’s addicting, keeps me close and makes me want to fight for a relationship for once. All in all I’m screwed._

_We are a disaster waiting to happen, a ticking time bomb ready to go off. But for now? For now I’m content to lay in his arms, tuck my head under his chin and just live in the moment. Call me selfish, I don’t care._

_Love, Whizzer.”_

Whizzer stared down at a sleeping Marvin, his head against Whizzer’s chest and face so peaceful. It was weird to think about how vulnerable the man was in this state. Ever since they met, Marvin liked to be in control, Whizzer let him, giving the reins in hope that the man would use them wisely. The jury is still out of that fact. Seeing him sleep is a rare experience, especially since Whizzer loves his sleep and Marvin is normally up before him. 

Whizzer slipped quickly out of Marvin’s arms, padding over to the closet and throwing on his fluffiest bathrobe he could find. He quietly closed the bedroom door, careful not to wake his lover. They both had the day off today, Whizzer thought that maybe it would be best for them to try and make it an actual relaxation day. 

Whizzer pretended not to care, but he saw the stress lines forming on Marvin’s face, the way he hated a lot of his life, how unstable everything was. Whizzer thought that he might as well try to help, since he had nothing else to do.

He hummed a slightly out of tuned song, moving around the kitchen with easy as he attempted to cook some eggs for them. Marvin’s favourite of course, not that he bothered to remember, the man just asked for it a lot. 

He cracked it into the pan and threw some random spices that he found into it. He had been living there for two months now, but he was forgetful, every time he was in the kitchen it was a new adventure. Not like he would be there much longer, there really was no point to getting attached to the place. They only had been dating for close to five months, Whizzer didn’t expect them to last much longer. Either him or Marvin would get bored, and they would leave and this would be a thing in the past.

It’s how it worked with every relationship he had, dating was rare and when it ended Whizzer cut all ties. But then again, none of his other relationships even held a candle to Marvin. They were all boring, Marvin wasn’t, Marvin was something else. 

Marvin chose to enter at that moment, only wearing boxers and his horrible bed head as he came up and wrapped his arms around Whizzer. “Took you long enough.” Whizzer hummed, looking at the clock. Almost noon already. 

“Bed was too cold without you to overheat it all.” Marvin grumbled, pressing sloppy kisses to his neck. 

“Not my fault I’m too hot for you.” Whizzer huffed, sliding the eggs onto a plate. 

Marvin laughed as he pulled away to grab the plate. “You only wish.” 

Whizzer chose to say nothing, instead grabbing his own plate and following Marvin to the table. 

The ate breakfast in silence, Marvin shovelling the food into his mouth quickly as Whizzer picked at them. 

“What do you want to do today?” Marvin asked after a few minutes of him just watching Whizzer eat like the creep he was. 

Whizzer shrugged, pushing his eggs away. “I was thinking maybe going down to the park for a while, relax and maybe go to a bar if you want to?” Whizzer proposed, picking up Marvin and his dishes and tossing them carelessly into the sink. One of them would do it eventually. 

Marvin was pulling a face when he turned back around. “What, go to a bar and watch you flirt with a million other men?” Marvin asked, and Whizzer felt himself get vaguely annoyed. 

He never promised Marvin that he wouldn’t sleep with other guys, in fact, he had made it very clear that he enjoys sleeping around even when in a relationship. It wasn’t anything against Marvin, he just liked to have fun. And besides, the number of men he had been sleeping with had been going down a lot. 

“I see no problem with that.” He snarked, watching Marvin face darken and feeling a little pleased. “But if you don’t want to I’m sure we can arrange something else?” Whizzer said, making his voice into a slight purr and he walked closer to his lover, running his fingers up and down the man’s bare arms and chest. 

Marvin smiled, the fire inside Whizzer lighting up at it. Marvin leaned up and captured his lips in a vicious kiss, both of them competing for dominance. Whizzer pulled Marvin closer electrify blazing inside his fingers as he ran his fingers over Marvin’s face. Marvin was the one to pull away, Whizzer pouting slightly at the loss of contact. 

“The walk?” Marvin asked innocently, His lips curling up into a slightly smirk as he walked away from a flustered and slightly aroused Whizzer. 

Whizzer walked quickly to catch up to him, grabbing his arm and turning him around, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss and pressing Marvin’s back against the wall. Whizzer wasn’t normally one for kissing or making out, to him kissing was just means to an end. A simple bridge to get to the part he liked. But Marvin loved kissing. He would kiss him while they were going to bed, soft and slow and without any intention behind it. He would kiss him to shut him up, pressing his lips against his to assert his dominance and power. Slowly Whizzer found he didn’t mind kissing as much as he used to, as long as it was Marvin he was kissing. 

“I think the walk can wait.” Whizzer whispered, his mouth less than a centimetre away from Marvin’s. The man didn’t reply, only closed to distance between their lips and pulled them into their bedroom.

________________

 

“Tell me about your latest boy toy.” Cordelia said over the phone as Whizzer sat on the couch, the cord stretched to its absolute limit. 

“Well, if anything I’m the boy toy.” Whizzer laughed, he forgot how much he enjoyed these monthly phone calls with her. She still lived in the city, but on the other side and really they were both too busy to go and see each other as often as they would like. “It’s still Marvin.”

“What? Really?” Cordelia asked, surprise coloring her voice. “Hasn’t it been like seven months since you met him? And your still together?” 

“I can hold actually nice relationships you know.” Whizzer said, the silence on the other side of the phone was telling of her disbelief. 

“Okay fine,” Whizzer laughed. “I normally can’t but he’s something else Delia. He keeps me occupied, keeps me on my toes. We call for passion, and it’s slowing no sign of fizzing out.” He told her, twisting the cord in his fingers like some middle-aged teen. 

“Whizzer Brown,” Cordelia gasped. “Are you in love with him?” 

Whizzer nearly fell off the couch. “No! Of course not Delia. I don’t do ‘love’. That’s just stupid.” He scoffed, making finger gestures despite her not able to see them. 

“Sure honey, I believe you.” She said in a voice that clearly stated that she did not believe him at all. 

“What about Charlotte?” He asked, pitching his voice slightly lower. “Has she figured out your helpless crush on her yet?” 

“No,” Cordelia asked, accepting his change of subject. “She just continues on her way, being devastatingly beautiful as she saves lives and challenges stereotypes and breaks the patriarchy.” She sighed, her voice sounding all lovey dovely like it always does when she’s talking about her doctor. 

Whizzer would never say it out loud, but he secretly thought they would be a super cute couple and was cheering it on from the sidelines. 

Their conversation drifted away from Marvin and into normal topics, but late that night as Whizzer lay in Marvin’s arms he couldn’t help but think about it. 

He didn’t love Marvin did he?

Whizzer didn’t do love, it was something he had long come to realize. After multiple failed relationships he thought that maybe he was just unlovable. Not in a sad way either, people from all over fell in love with him, but it was so much easier not to love them back. To simply move from guy to guy on a journey to self fulfillment. And he was an ass to them, cold hearted and only wanting sex. Who would want a relationship with someone like him?

But here he was, laying in Marvin’s arms after a long night. Looking at his lover’s face and body and wondering what he did to deserve this. Their relationship was healthy, not at all. They fought more than they talked, they had sex more than they did literally anything else. But sometimes, when Marvin laughed or did some weird impression Whizzer would feel happier than he had in ages. 

When he was just with Marvin he let a little bit of his mask slip, did little things he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. When he was with Marvin things were different. 

And as Whizzer stared down at Marvin’s face, the calmness and fair skin, the perfect red lips and beautiful nose. He couldn’t have been more content. 

His stomach dropped, twisting and turning as he thought and thought. And shit, he was falling in love wasn’t he? 

He carefully dislodged himself from Marvin’s arms walked out of bed, softly pacing the room before just sitting on the edge of the bed, the furthest side from Marvin. 

He felt sick, like his entire world was crashing over top of his head. He didn’t want this, he truly didn’t. When he met Marvin, it was all a game. He played the role of the stupid whore, a pretty face and an absent mind. He was curious about Marvin, searching for understanding in the planes of his body the same way some people looked up at the stars or numbers or words. 

And now? Whizzer didn’t know where he fit. His entire world had been thrown off kilter. He still played the dumb pretty boy, screwed every morning, mostly stayed at home and never challenged Marvin. Well, that was a lie. He challenged Marvin all the time, fought and pushed the man far beyond his limits. But he never acted smarter than Marvin, because the man had to feel secure, had to feel happy in knowing he was the smartest. 

But Whizzer didn’t really mind, because when Marvin pulls him close and pressed their foreheads together, he felt like this was his purpose, the thing he was searching for at the bar late that night. 

It was weird to think that there was a single possibility that he could love this mess of a man. This man who called him names, who treated him like an idiot, who fought with him constantly. But then again Whizzer already knew that he never craved anything like a loving home. He never craved a man who would treat him like a king, he liked the fire. Liked the passion and the fights. 

His life was beyond messed up. 

“Whizzer?” Marvin asked, his voice slightly slurred as the man woke up. Whizzer turned to face him, watching as his lover sat up onto his elbows and gazed at him in confusion. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m cold down here without you.”

Whizzer almost crawled back into bed, let himself be cuddled to death and lay content in Marvin’s arms. But the fear and self hatred washed over him and before he realized what he was doing he was standing up, pulling on some pants and a shirt before heading out the door. 

He heard Marvin calling after him, and he mumbled some half assed excuse of ‘going for a walk’ before he was outside, practically running down the street to get away. When he felt that he was far enough he stopped, taking deep breaths to calm his heart rate down. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, blinking back angry frustrated tears as he turned and stared back at their apartment. No, Marvin’s apartment, not theirs. “Shit.”

He turned, wandering down the street and finding the closest bar he could. There he found some desperate guy and got lost in the feeling, trying to forget Marvin and failing. Because every single touch failed to bring him the same pleasure that Marvin’s touch did. Every time the other guy ran his fingers through Whizzers hair he was reminded of Marvin’s fingers doing the same the night before. And every after match just made the hole in his chest grow wider and wider as he slowly accepted that there was no getting out of this. 

He was falling in love with Marvin, and from now on no other guy would ever be close to replicating the feeling of Marvin’s skin against his. Because in the end all he would want was Marvin. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try though, that he wouldn’t screw man after man in hopes of getting the whispers of Marvin in the back of his mind to disappear. But they wouldn’t, and in the end?

It was always fucking Marvin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews? I hate having to re write this all and I would love to hear your guy's input on this all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter but at this point I just want to get rid of it. 
> 
> Warning for a tiny bit of sexual content, nothing too heavy.

_“Dear mom,_

_Weirdly enough mom, Marvin and I are still together. It’s been nine months now, not counting the first month where he was still with his wife and we were only screwing each other. It’s been hard, but nothing I wasn’t prepared for._

_He’s changed lately though, I’m not sure how to describe it. Before, when we first met, he was charming. Sure we fought, almost all the time, but it was all stupid things, meaningless. And he still told jokes, smiled at me, held me tightly. Normally things I find useless boring, but pair it with the passion, the fire between us, and I found I didn’t mind it as much. But now? He’s just plain mean. I think it’s the stress, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier._

_Our fights are harsher now, and sometimes I can’t tell if he means the things he says to me or not. He often complains, that I’m not doing good enough, that I’m not committed enough, that I’m heartless. But, I don’t get it anymore._

_He talks a lot about me screwing around, truth is, I don’t do it as much as before. The only time I really sleep with other guys is after a big fight, when he kicks me out and I need a place to stay. There might be a few more reasons to that, but I’d rather not write them down._

_He’s trying to force me into things I don’t want to do. Tells me that I need to prove that I love him, show him that I care. Which I find funny, because you know what the kicker is? It’s the fact that he doesn’t care about me anymore. Trina recently showing interest in Mendel, which is messy in itself, but it’s put Marvin into a bad mood. Which honestly kind of hurts._

_He’s always talking about how I refuse to commit to him, but there he is, obsessing over his ex wife and what her love life is like. It’s almost like I’m not enough, like he needs Trina as well as me. Shouldn’t I be enough so that he doesn’t care about that anymore? Do I not provide him with enough? It’s confusing and painful and I’m not sure how to deal with it._

_Either way, I have to cook dinner soon. Marvin will be home in an hour._

_Love Whizzer.”_

When Whizzer walked through the door at 7pm on a Friday night the last thing on his mind was dinner. 

He spent the entire afternoon with a single client who kept on complaining on and on about everything little things. By the time he finally managed to get them out the door he had two more meeting scheduled with them before the actual photoshoot was even to take place. To sum in up he was frustrated, tired, and just wanted to go to bed. 

Obviously, Marvin had other plans. 

“Where were you?” Marvin asked immediately as he walked in, Whizzer cringing at the anger in his tone as he hung up his jacket. 

“Hi honey, my day was nice thank you for asking.” He said sarcastically, turning to face a livid Marvin. Whizzer mentally ran through his checklist of warning signs. The exact thing he had done for almost every man in his life. 

Marvin was sitting, legs spread and arm’s crossed, his face stony but hints of displeasure and anger were shining in his eyes. All in all it looked like it was going to be a long night. Whizzer mentally prepared himself for a fight. 

“Where were you?” Marvin repeated, his voice hard as stone. 

“Working Marvin, you know, the job that I do? I told you about it today, it went later than I wanted it to. What did you miss me?” Whizzer said, mocking the other man slightly. He knew that Marvin didn’t miss him, missing each other was out of their range of relationship. That meant Marvin had to actually want him there for something other than sex first. 

“You were suppose to make the dinner tonight.” Marvin said, ignoring literally everything Whizzer just said. 

“Oh my god, here you go again with the dinner. I was working Marvin, you can make your own damn dinner if your so hungry. Whizzer scoffed, it was an arrangement they made a long time ago, Whizzer would make the dinner and have it ready for Marvin when he got home. At first he didn’t mind to much, it kept him busy when he had nothing else to do and it was pretty fun to experiment, most of the time he would just order in. 

But lately? Marvin had been getting on his ass for it, demanding it be done without any excuses, that he should make it and not complain, turn into some pretty little housewife that made the man of the house dinner. Well guess what, Whizzer had a job to do to, and he wasn’t some stupid housewife. He wasn’t like Trina, he wasn’t going to roll over and just allow Marvin to control him. 

“You work a tiny little job, while I work all day, everyday in a small office Whizzer, all I ask is to come home to a nice meal. Is that too much to ask?” Marvin asked, getting to his feet to stare into Whizzers eyes. 

“My job is just as important as your Marvin.” Whizzer replied, crossing his arms. “Just because I don’t work as long of shifts or bring as much money in does not mean I can alter my entire schedule just so you can have a meal you can easily make yourself.”

“I provided you with a home Whizzer, I’m the one buying all your stupid expensive clothes and unnecessary spending’s, and all I want is you to come home and make me some dinner! That’s not too much! This could be a wonderful arrangement, but your ruining it.” Marvin hissed. “This is your job, to sit here and look pretty, to go off and do your stupid little job that gets you nothing, and then come home make the dinner and be ready to screw.”

Whizzer took a deep breath the anger and frustration building up. “That isn’t my job Marvin, I’m not some god damn house wife. Stop trying to push me into that role. If that’s what you truly want then you should have stayed with Trina.”

They stood in silence, both man not knowing how to continue but not willing to back down. Whizzer knew he wasn’t wrong about this, eh couldn’t be. He wasn’t some woman he could get to bend to his will. He was Marvin’s equal, no matter what the bastard thought. Marvin had dug himself so far into his pit of internalized homophobia and self loathing that he couldn’t see that Whizzer had had enough of this stupid game. 

Marvin walked closer to him, stopping a foot away and staring into his eye. 

“I just want you to love me, everything can be so perfect Whizzer. Please, just love me.” Marvin whispered, and Whizzers breath caught in his throat. Because god damn it, even when pissed and angry and wanting to storm out he still loved this man. He still wanted to hold Marvin close and kiss all their worries away, make this messed up relationship into something beautiful. 

But every time he opened his mouth to tell Marvin this his words got all jumbled up and everything twisted this was and that. So instead he looked away, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way he saw Marvin wilt under the semi-rejection. Whizzer then leaned forwards and captured Marvin’s lips in his, the closest thing the other man would ever get to a declaration of love. 

Marvin pulled away pushing against Whizzers chest in anger and now it was Whizzers turn to feel the bitter sting of rejection. 

“Don’t you understand Whizzer? You make the dinner, I bring the money in. That’s all I need. Is that too much to ask for?” Marvin said, slightly breathless as he stared into Whizzers eyes. Whizzer felt the breath leave him as he stared into Marvin’s eyes, the anger and lust overriding each other and fighting for power. 

“Is this really what you want to talk about right now Marv?” Whizzer purred, taking his hand and pressing it against Marvin’s crotch. The other man’s pupils were now blown wide, a moan dragged from his lips. “See? I think we would both prefer to take this to the bedroom instead of arguing?” He asked, waiting for the consent. 

Marvin nodded quick and curt before his lips were crashing against Whizzers, pushing the taller man against the wall. Whizzer relaxed instantly, allowing his body to take over as they ventured towards the bedroom. 

This wasn’t healthy, not in the least. They should sit down and talk this out, share both sides of the story and get to the bottom of the problem. But his Marvin kissing him like that and pressing against him just right,, Whizzer found that he could easily push all his silly thoughts to the side. 

They would talk about this later. 

He knew they never would. 

________________

Whizzer hated their so called ‘family dinners’. He hated it with a burning passion. 

The dinner itself was wonderful, Trina was an amazing cook, and even her signature bad dish was one of the best things he had ever tasted. The food was never the problem, the problem was Marvin and Trina starting fights every minute and glaring daggers and poisoned thorns at each other. Whizzer felt out of place, and outsider looking in. Looking at the family he ruined. 

Marvin didn’t make anything better. He had been getting more and more irritable as the days went on, his fights with Trina, his inability to get Jason to like him, it was all building up. And the person who always took that downfall was Whizzer. It was always Whizzer who witnessed Marvin blow up, start yelling and mocking as the internal fight inside the other man grew and grew. It was only worst at family dinners, when Marvin was surrounded by the people and things he deemed as ‘mistakes’ and ‘errors’. 

The only tolerable part was before the actual dinner, when he would sit with Jason and either talk about baseball or play chess together. Whizzer had a soft spot for the kid, he was intelligent, sassy, and overall a joy to be around. He really didn’t deserve the crappy life he was thrown into. 

The only other slightly barrable time was when he helped Trina wash the dishes. Sure, Trina hated his guts, and really Whizzer didn’t blame her, but she tried to remain civil. They always made small talk, and Whizzer enjoyed her company, really he did. She was sweet, nice and kind if not a little insane. But he guessed ten years with Marvin would do that to a gal. 

Trina was currently furiously scrubbing at a plate, her eyes burning with anger and hurt as she attacked the stain as if it was Marvin’s face. The two of them had gotten into yet another fight, some snide thing about Whizzer and quickly evolving into their inability to get along. Whizzer tuned it out at the beginning, instead making funny faces at Jason in hopes of cheering the kid up. 

“My turn to wash.” He comments, carefully taking the wet towel out of her hand and giving her the drying one. She looked surprised and slightly confused even though he did this every time. They stood in silence for the longest time, simply cleaning and drying and enjoying the silence. 

“I’m going on a date with Mendel tomorrow.” Trina suddenly blurted out, causing Whizzer to stop scrubbing for a single second before continuing. He wouldn’t lie and say this was unexpected. 

“Good for you.” He said coolly. “About time you got over Marvin.” He knew he was being a bit of a dick, but then again what was Trina really expecting. 

“This isn’t about Marvin.” Trina defended herself, her cheeks heating red. 

“We both know that’s a lie.” Whizzer said, handing her another plate, but refusing to let it go until she met his eyes. “I wish beyond anything that you can find happiness in him. But don’t pretend that Marvin doesn’t have at least a tiny bit of an influence.”

Trina opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. He let go of the plate, letting his face soften. “You deserve better than him Trina, hopefully Mendel can be that better.”

He turned, walking out of the room and letting Trina bask in his silence as she dried the last plate. 

He didn’t lie, not really. She didn’t deserve Marvin. She deserved someone who would treat her well, who wouldn’t call her names, who would love her and her son, who would help her find the happiness Marvin had drained out of her when they first married. 

Trina didn’t deserve someone like Marvin, but Whizzer? Whizzer deserved him. 

“Are you ready to go?” Marvin asked, his face stormy and Whizzer knew that his entire night was already planned out for him. 

“Sure.” Whizzer replied as Marvin leaned close and kissed his roughly, his fingers digging into Whizzers wrists as he squeezed them. It made him feel like dirt, like he was someone to be controlled. 

“Let’s go pretty boy.” Marvin whispered. Whizzer just nodded. 

This is what he deserved. 

_______________

Slowly but surely their fights that normally ended in making out and sex morphed. They changed until most of their fights ended with one of them storming out, hurt feelings and slammed doors. Whizzer found himself in other men’s beds often, trying to forget the hurt feeling and the ache in his chest, but he always failed.

The passion between them was still strong, but the true feeling behind it faded. The feeling close to love that Whizzer felt towards Marvin faded, leaving a bitter and cold feeling inside of him. Marvin still demanded his love, demanded that he made dinner, folded his clothes and never complained, but Whizzer didn’t want that anymore. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

Everything was a swirl of confusion and anger and hurt and most of the time Whizzer was left sitting alone in his apartment not knowing how to act or think or talk. He was still in love, god help him but looking at Marvin still made his heart sing. But this wasn’t the man he fell in love with, this violent and spiteful man that stood before him. At this point it almost depended on the day, some days he felt head over heels for Marvin, but more often that not he felt nothing but hurt. 

He wasn’t content with the persona he played along to. The pretty boy who was there for sex and nothing else. He pretended that he enjoyed that, that he was content with living this horrible life. But love is hard to deal with and it hurts when that feeling fades. He was tired of playing games. 

He was tired of loving and loving and never getting loved back. Sure he didn’t show love well, and honestly Marvin probably thought that Whizzer hated him. IT disgusted him sometimes, the nonchalant face he often put on around Marvin, the way he brushed off the other man as nothing other than sex and money. Because as much as Whizzer wanted that to be all he wanted, it wasn’t true.

But Marvin didn’t love him back. If Marvin loved him than he wouldn’t care so much about Trina, Whizzer had seen the way the man had tried to keep the other woman near him, as if he needed her as much as he said he needed Whizzer. Sure the two fought all the time, but at least Marvin sometimes fought to keep her. 

Whizzer felt like nothing to him most days, dirt on the bottom of Marvin’s shoe, someone to be manipulated and bent until he broke. Whizzer should leave, should turn around and go on to better things. He could do better things than to sit around and be some boy toy for a man who was trying to heteronormalize every aspect of tehri relationship. But he couldn’t leave. 

The same way that he couldn’t fully admit that he was kind of in love with Marvin, every time he opened his mouth to tell Marvin it was over the words caught in his voice and suddenly he was stumbling. 

Whizzer knew that despite it all he would stay until the end, would stay until Marvin snapped and left him, threw him to the street. 

And Whizzer didn’t regret it. Not one bit.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is really short, I know, but that was the point so don't judge me.

_“Dear mom,_

_I talked about a disaster? With Marvin? Well it happened, all because of a chess game too. Don’t get me wrong, the real problem happened months, we started to change. He was obsessed with keeping his family, controlling Trina and Jason and getting them to like him. He wanted too much, he wanted it all.  
Our fights got worse as his mood soured, I did t know what to do so I matched him. It makes me so damn mad to think about, to think that he lets his anger fester and evolve until I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Can’t tell if he needs me to stop or continue. He needs this power, needs to prove that he’s somehow bigger than me, more of a man. But I won’t let him. _

_I got with Marvin because he made me believe that I was his equal, someone to be valued. Now? I felt like dirt on his shoe, someone for him to dominate and control. He tried to make me into some kind of house wife, a mock parody of Trina. I’m not some god damn woman ready to beg at his feet for him to notice me, to beg for his attention and dote on all of his needs. I’m done playing the role of the pretty face and the idiotic mind._

_Sure, I may not be the smartest guy around, but hell I’m not dumb. Marvin thinks he's so much better because he has a more important job. But I’m doing something I love, photography, while he sits in an office all day slowly losing sleep and stressing himself over something he hates. So really who is the idiot?_

_But god damn its mom, I think I was in love with him. Not any more of course, a while ago all I felt when I thought of him was a pleasant warmth, like the sun shining down on me. Now? All that’s left is a cold bitterness, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I fell in love with him slowly and fell back out of it the same way._

_He wasn’t the man I fell for. The man I, god, the man I grew to love. I never meant to love him. The feeling between us disappeared, leaving me bitter and confused. And then it all came crashing down._

_Over a chess game mom. Chess. We were fighting and I took it too far, knew I was pushing but didn’t stop. I won the game and he was so pissed he kicked me out.  
We yelled, and it ended with me packing my things and going._

_So now I don’t have a house, all I have is the clothes on my back and everything I could fit into my tiny little suitcase, the same one I had when dad kicked me out. Funny how the same thoughts and betrayal seem to be running through my head._

_I’ll probably find some guy to screw, stay at his for the night and pick up another job to be able to afford the apartment I’ll have to buy. Right now, all I want to do is curl up in Marvin’s arms and bask in the warmth. But that’s gone now, and I’m sitting in the cold feeling useless and stupid and so very very cold._

_God damn it Marvin._

_Whizzer.”_

 

Whizzer decided that chess was the incarnate of the devil and if he saw another board he would probably snap it in half. 

He was sitting in his room, or what was his room, packing his shirts and pants and money into it as fast as he could. He wanted to get out as soon as he could, he heard Marvin slam the door a while ago and he wanted to be gone before the man was back. 

The anger and hurt and heartbreak was still fresh in his mind and he quickly blinked back tears, cursing himself, Marvin, and a celestial body he long ago stopped believing in. 

He angrily slammed the case shut, staring at it as if it personally ruined his life. He barely ever used this thing, beat up and old as it was. Marvin had offered to buy him a new one maybe a million times, he refused because of the story behind it. It was this very bag that was packed when his dad dragged him away from his mom and brother, this was the bag his dad threw at his beaten and battered body when he kicked him out, and now it was the bag that Marvin shoved into his chest and told him to leave. 

Out of all three of those times Whizzer wasn’t proud to admit that the latter hurt the most. 

He picked up one of Marvin’s sweaters that was lying around, a nice brown one that was probably the only good-looking thing in the man’s entire wardrobe. Whizzer held it for a moment, almost tempted to pack it to, if only so he could keep one last bit of Marvin with him. 

But then he remembered the anger he felt before, the look on Marvin’s face as he yelled at him, the feeling of confusion and hurt as the bag was shoved into his chest, knocking his breath out of his chest and knocking him out of the place where he was finally feeling like he belonged in. 

He threw the sweater to the ground in a fit of rage, grabbing his bag and storming out, careful not to look around one last time. If he saw the leftover bits and pieces of their happy life he might do something stupid like stay and beg Marvin to take him back. 

He refused to do that. This was the best option for the both of them. That he was convinced of. This was an event that was predestined to happen ever since their eyes first met in that dirty bar almost a year ago. Their relationship was a twisted dance, a tango of going back and forth, insults and compliments, sex and slammed door, passion and anger. This was the finale, them heading in two different directions. 

Whizzer shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath to steady the swirl of feelings swirling inside him. 

This was for the best. 

It was for the best.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another really short one that was originally part of the last chapter but I decided to break because I don't know I just decided to.

_“Dear mom,  
I don’t really want to talk to you about how my life had been. I’ve kind of been falling into what you can call a spiral for a while now.   
I’m not happy, not by a long shot. I look into the mirror and I hate what I see most days, I’m trying though. I wont stop trying. I promise you that, out of everything else I’ve said, I promise I won’t stop trying. I won’t give up. So many people have wanted me to fail and in the past and want me to fail now. But I won’t. I’ll push through this, I promise.   
From, Whizzer.”_

 

The first few week was the hardest, he spent the day at his job, picking up extra shifts and extra clients, working his ass off so he could afford the apartment he needed. In the mean time he slept in his god damn work place, slipping a nice flimsy blanket into the backroom and shivering in the cold because his boss refused to turn up the heat no matter what lie he spun. 

During the night he tended to go out, finding a bar far enough away that he wouldn’t run into anyone who knew or knew of Marvin and found the closest man to screw. Sure it wasn’t ideal, but their beds were always so much warmer than freezing in the backroom of the studio. That was if they let him stay at all, most kicked him out immediately after, claiming their wives would be home soon. And it wasn’t like he could take someone back to his place, so he was mostly confined to quick screws in the bathroom 

He was miserable to say the least, plagued by nightmares, his dads voice and Marvin’s voice morphing into one, making him shiver and cry out for someone to hold him. But there was no one there, no one was ever there. 

He stopped sleeping after the first week, catching quick naps throughout the day to fend off the exhaustion but otherwise forcing himself awake. He didn’t want to fall asleep and relive harsh memories, relieve the constant heartbreak. 

He found himself working out more to compensate for the stress and anxiety always clawing in his veins. He ran often in the park, normally early in the morning when he got tired of the book he was ready and the coffee and tea in his body was starting to wear off. 

It worked, it helped him stay fit despite his now chaotic work schedule and helped him stay calm. Running was therapeutic, normally he would play sports when stressed, racquetball, tennis, stuff like that. But he didn’t have a partner anymore, so track would work. 

He was getting his life back on track, he was only a couple of hundred away from being able to get back onto his feet and his mental health was slowly improving, and then he ran into Trina in the park. 

Literally ran into her. 

He was jogging like he normally did, at the ungodly hour, and was lost in thought. He was debating if he should treat himself for a nice dinner for the first time in a while and take two more shifts, or just save the money and splurge when he actually had the financial stability to. 

He was completely lost in the debate when he ran into her, knocking her complete off her feet and onto her ass and causing him to stumble back a bit. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” He said immediately, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he reached down to help her up. The woman looked up at him, her mouth opening with shock. 

“Whizzer?” She asked, stunned. Whizzer could say the same about himself, he knew he couldn’t avoid Marvin’s family forever, the city was only so big, but he didn’t expect to see her so soon after the break up. 

“Trina!” He exclaimed, quickly slipping a mask over his face. Professional but friendly, complete the interaction as soon as possible so he could go on and forget this ever happened. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. Wasn’t paying attention.” 

He shot her a charming smile, ignoring the fact that she didn’t give him one back and in fact looked quite confused at his appearance. He didn’t look that bad for god’s sake, maybe his bags were a bit darker and he was a bit thinner, but he was still quite handsome thank you very much. 

“It’s okay, Whizzer you look, very good.” She said, and he also ignored the fact that it was an obvious lie. 

“Thanks, you do to. You look happier.” He commented, and it was the truth. A few of the stress lines had disappeared from her face, and she looked lighter, like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. It made a pang of jealousy run through him before the guilt struck. He was probably one of the reasons that weight was there in the first place. 

“I am.” Trina said, a smile lighting up her face. “I’m actually getting married to Mendel.” She blurted out, and Whizzer blinked, reminded of the time where they sat doing the dishes when she fist told him she was dating Mendel. 

“Congratulation.” He said stiffly, looking over her shoulder and running through a list of excuses he could use to get out of this conversation. 

“Do you want to come? We could always use another guest.” She offered, and Whizzer blinked. 

“Why?” He asked before he could stop himself. She should hate him, he took away her husband, ruined her life, ruined her perfect life. Then he went and threw that all away. 

“I-I guess, I guess it would just be nice to have you there.” She fumbled, clearly she didn’t think this through. 

Whizzer smiled politely, he did want to support her, because she really was a lovely woman, but at the same time it really wasn’t his place. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to, I’ve been working a lot lately so I don’t think my boss will give me a free day. Thank you for the invitation by the way, I wish the two of you the best.” He said carefully, waving goodbye and turning and walking away. 

“Wait!” She cried, sounding a bit desperate. “Jason has missed you Whizzer, please, if you won’t go to the wedding just agree to see him a few times? The kid looks up to you.” 

Whizzer paused, he had missed Jason. The kid was probably the only thing he could think about in that time frame that didn’t make Whizzers heart clench. He wanted to see the kid again, but he hadn’t dared to, hadn’t dared to reach out first.

He pulled a business card out of his pocket, glad he always kept one on him just in case. He turned back to Trina, handing it to her. 

“Tell him to swing around my place at some time, we can figure something out then.” He turned to leave again before pausing. “Tell the kid I missed him too.” And with that final note he walked away, going back to his studio for the start of the day. 

That one small interaction sparked something inside him. He refused to blame his foul mood on Marvin, the man didn’t deserve that, but it was a stupid battle. 

Whizzer had been fumbling since Marvin kicked him out, suffering what sounded a bit like a broken heart, but he now saw the error of his ways. 

He was Whizzer fucking Brown. He had come back from things bigger than this, he could get over this. Marvin was just another man in the long line of people who he had been involved with. He shouldn’t have this kind of power over Whizzer. He would save up the last bit of his money, buy his apartment, get another job to help get him back on his feet and slowly make his way towards becoming someone he could be proud of.

Someone Jason would be proud of. 

Someone Marvin would be jealous of. 

Spite was a pretty good motivator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *enter shrug emoji here*


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a short reference to sexual assault and rape in the beginning letter. The numbers of assaults on men went up in the 80's and I just wanted to mention it because it felt like cheating if I didn't.

_“Dear mom,_

_Life has been interesting these past couple of months. It took me a while to get back onto my feet after Marvin, but I’m better now. Or at least as good as I’m going to get. It’s been a year, and I’m a lot better than I was the first couple of months._

_I picked up this sweet job at a bar down the road, sure I was mostly hired as eye candy, something for the men to stare at while they ordered, but I like the think they keep me because I’m actually good now. I have flexible hours so I’m still able to work at the studio during the weekends and most of the mornings. I’m not afraid to say that it's one of the best jobs yet._

_But recently some issues have been going around the community, It’s the 80’s now, gay rights have been sparking. Which I’m overjoyed at, I really am. But I’ve noticed some issues, a few people I know have suddenly stopped showing up around here, I don’t know where they went. I fear violence, maybe they got mugged or killed or something. Honestly, I’m too scared to go around asking. Another is something I’ve been noticing a lot since I work at the bar. But the number of assaults are going up. I’ve had a few assholes try to force me into stuff, and I have to say I’m beyond lucky for self defense training and bosses who can’t afford to lose me._

_But sometimes I see two men go the bathroom, and one comes out looking happy, but the other comes and sits at the bar and shies away from touch. They drink too much and they got that look in their eye. It makes me sick, shameful to think I didn’t notice. I try to help out where I can, but I sometimes get there a bit too late. It’s disgusting. That need for power. I’ve beaten a fair number of assholes up lately._

_Either way, life is getting better. I’m not completely happy, and I don’t think I will be for an awhile, but I’m trying mom. I promised you that I would try._

_Love, Whizzer.”_

 

One hair, two hair, three hair, four hair, five hair, six hair, seven hair. 

One by one Whizzer carefully styled his hair into its casual windswept look, making sure every part of it was in place. He avoided looking at himself fully in the mirror yet, knowing full well what he would see there. 

Others would see a classy and well-kept person, with great skin, beautiful hair, stunning eyes and a perfect bone structure. But him? He saw the small red spot on the insides of his nose, he saw the cracks in his normally smooth lips, he saw the dark bags under his eyes and the stress and laugh lines lining them. 

Whizzer’s job was basically to look pretty. He showed up at the bar, served some men and acted as man candy to get people to come back. After his shift he was practically expected to either go home with a man from earlier or find someone to go home with. 

He didn’t mind, he really didn’t. It was nice to feel everyone’s eyes on him, to have people constantly calling him pretty and lusting after him. 

But sometimes it got exhausting. The constant attention, the constant need to look his best without fail. Expectations needed to be met, and sometimes he didn’t feel like he could live up to that. 

He walked into his kitchen pouring his now boiling water into his mug and placing his favourite tea bag inside. He took a sip after a few minutes and longed to put some honey in it. But one of his regular screws made a comment about his weight a week ago, so he was on a strict no sugar diet. 

So he was stuck eating plain buttered toast and bitter tea. 

He shivered as the memory washed over him. Of the man's hands running over his stomach, over his ribs and back before pinching some of the fat on the side. "Getting a bit chubby aren't you darling?" The man moaned into Whizzers mouth, and at the time it was all Whizzer could think about, he barely even noticed as the guy-

The phone rang, breaking his concentration as he watched it for a second, half debating if he could just ignore it. He decided last minute that it wasn’t worth the energy it took to listen to the stupid thing ring for two minutes. 

“Whizzer.” He greeted, taking another sip of his tea as he waited for a response. 

“Brown,” The staticky voice of his boss Lance crackled through. “I need you to come in a bit early tomorrow, hopefully that’s not an issue?” 

Whizzer sighed, it was an issue, but he guessed that if he took the extra shift he could easily reschedule his spa day. 

“Of course, you need me at five again?” He asked, placing his cup down as he wrote the time into his little book. 

“Yes, you’re a lifesaver Whiz, and maybe come in later tonight? We’re having a large party in and I feel like some of them would like to see you. See ya later.” And with that Lance hung up, not leaving any time for Whizzer to refuse. 

Whizzer checked his book, crossing out the walk in the park he was planning to take later. He could use the extra money. 

He wasn’t exactly a prostitute per say. But the men that frequently visited liked seeing him, liked screwing him, and Whizzer didn’t mind it either. Some of them were pretty good screws, so he went by the same philosophy as he did a couple of years ago, if a guy wanted to give him money, who was he to say no? He always could use the extra money.

He quickly wrote the rest of his plans down, work at the studio tonight and Thursday, the bar tomorrow and Saturday and Friday was his visit with Jason. 

Visiting Jason was really the only thing that brought true happiness into this version of life. They had been meeting at the park for almost six months now. Whizzer either helped tossed a ball around with the kid, took him to get ice cream, or they talked endlessly about Whizzers studio job and the kids at Jason’s school. 

The kid was still as wonderful as he was a year ago, having changed into a stubborn little eleven-year-old who was way too smart for his own good. He often visited Trina and Mendel for dinner every month or so due to the kids relentless bugging. Whizzer knew Trina hated it, she was friendly, but the passive aggressiveness behind her eyes was hard to hide. 

Whizzer sighed, the smile on his face from thinking about Jason not fading as he really thought about it. 

It was weird to think how absolutely boring his life was lately. He used to love what he did, sure he hated taking family portraits but the excitement in his life came from going to a bar, screwing guys and verballing sparring with arrogant jerks. Now, he did all of those activities, but they felt more like chores. Like an obligation. The passion and fire from his earlier years had burned out, leaving just the ashes behind in their place. 

Life was boring as shit and he had no idea how to change that. 

_________________________________

 

“Whizzer!” Jason cried, running up to the man and practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Hey Jason.” Whizzer replied, grinning and holding out his hand for the boy to high five. It had been nearly a month since they had seen each other, both of their schedules pulling them in opposite directions. 

The kid was getting older, 12 years and steadily approaching 13. He heard the boy complain regularly about all the stress his parents were shovelling onto him due to his bar mitzvah. The ridiculous stories Jason told him always made Whizzer smile. It was always refreshing to hear the kid bitch about his parents all the time, teenagers were always a joy to be around. 

“You up for some ice cream?” He asked, slinging his arm around the kid’s shoulders. 

Jason looked at his skeptically. “It’s cold out.”

“So?” Whizzer asked. “Ice cream is an all weather treat.”

Jason shrugged. “Your words not mine.”

They chatted idly as they walked to the store, Jason ordering a large scoop of cookies and cream and Whizzer getting a small fruity frozen yogurt. They sat in a booth both trying to tell the other the worst dad jokes they know. 

“Hey Whizzer, did I tell you that mom signed me up for baseball this year? I made the team.” Jason suddenly said, a soft smile on his face. 

Whizzer grinned at him. “No you didn’t, good job buddy.” He smacked Jason’s arm lightly, the kid positively beaming at the praise. 

The two of them bonded over baseball a lot in the past few years after Jason brought his baseball card over to Whizzers place. Sometimes they would go to the park and they would just toss the ball around, a friendly game normally reserved for fathers and sons. 

Whizzer sometime wondered if Marvin ever did this with the kid, but that thought was always pushed out of mind immediately. Really anything that dealt with talking or thinking about Marvin was pushed out of his mind. 

“The first game is next week.” Jason said, studying him carefully. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go? No biggie if you can't, I'd just really love it if you showed up.”

The kid was suddenly shy, almost dismissive as if Whizzer couldn’t tell that he wanted Whizzer to come a lot. 

“Of course kid.” He said without thinking, and the pure joy that shone on Jason’s face was enough to dispel every single objection that immediately came to mind. 

Worries about if a certain father would also be at the game, worries about what Trina and Mendel would think, worries about if his work would allow it, worries about almost everything popped into his mind. But they didn’t matter.

This wasn’t about seeing Marvin again for the first time in two years. This wasn’t about him showing everyone up as the number one supportive non-dad. This was about going out and supporting Jason. About seeing the kid play, giving him pointers and just being there for the kid. 

Everything else would come after that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Writing characters OOC for the sake of self indulgent content? More likely than you think.

_“Dear mom,  
Call me an idiot, reckless, stupid, moronic. But I did what I promised not to do once again, I got back together with Marvin. _

_Jason invited me to his game, and I promised myself it would be about the kid. Giving him tips, cheering him on, supporting him. I didn’t except Marvin to be there. I didn’t expect Marvin to have changed so much. I was expecting the same asshole, the guy with the need for power and control. But Marvin seems better now, he’s happy, sweet, understands what he did wrong._

_Turns out Cordelia is apparently his neighbour too, I’m frankly a bit annoyed that she never told me, but I guess Marvin probably swore her to secrecy. Or she didn’t want to upset me or some bullshit like that. I tried to stay mad at her, but she made me cookies._

_But either way, Marvin and I are back together. I was ready to go to that game, look my best, support Jason, maybe say a single word to Marvin then leave. But I saw Marvin and everything shifted. I tried to remind myself that he was a maniac and that I deserved better, but I couldn’t. All my desperate pleads to run and sound the alarm fell flat and then suddenly he was in my apartment ready to go out on an actual date._

_Surprisingly we didn’t just go to dinner, come home to screw and go our separate ways, it's kind of sad how that’s all I expect now. Like I am just someone made to be screwed, I’m better than that, even if I have to remind myself of that every now and then._

_Either way, Marvin and I are dating again and I’ not sure what’s going to happen, but I think it’s going to be good this time mom. I wish you could meet him; you guys would have gotten along well after you smacked some sense into him. He would like your cooking, we both are mediocre cooks at best so he would think anything you make is made by the cooking gods, it’s the same way with Cordelia._

_Love, Whizzer.”_

When Marvin invited him for dinner after the baseball game, Whizzer was surprised to say the least. He agreed, because he didn’t think there was any way he could look into Marvin’s stupidly blue eyes and deny him anything. 

It had been over two years and as soon as Whizzer was back beside him he was already falling into the same traps. He found he didn’t mind as much, it was sad but he never truly forgot the imprint Marvin left on him. Sure he pushed everything remotely Marvin related out of his mind, tried his best to pretend that beautiful eleven months never happened, but it was hard. 

And as soon as Whizzer saw him again for the first time, on the baseball pitch hiding behind an annoyed looking woman Whizzer learned was the infamous Charlotte, he feel in love once again. God damn Marvin and his horrible endearing smile, the touch that sent tingles down his spine, the little things that he did that annoyed the hell out of him. 

So here he was, his nicest blue suit that he recently had tailored to fit his thinner body and staring at the clock, mildly regretting giving Marvin his address. He should have just gone to his house, but the thought of seeing Cordelia and her girlfriend put him on edge. He saw the look on both of their faces when he said yes at the baseball game. 

He wasn’t sure if the uncertainty on their faces was for him or Marvin, but he really didn’t want to know. 

So here he was, after giving Marvin the address to his very run down, very poor apartment, wearing a nice suit and worrying a lot. 

Was Marvin even going to show up? Or was this all some elaborate set up? Were they all going to pop out and laugh at him for being a hopefully little bitch who never got over his ex? And if it wasn’t a set up, what next? What would he say to him? Why did he even agree to this?

He kept remembering the last time they met each other, screaming at each other over a chess game before Marvin pressed the suitcase against his chest and sneered words at him. Whizzer remembered the anger, the hurt, every negative emotion that was running through his mind at the time. Whizzer had been debating their relationship for years, he told himself he wasn’t responsible, that Marvin was at fault. But over the years that argument grew less and less likely. 

Would their relationship be the same? Was there even going to be a relationship? Why was Marvin already ten minutes late that bastard?

A knock on the door suddenly sounded, and Whizzer found himself unable to move for a good five seconds. Because this was it, this was really happening. 

Man he was an idiot for agreeing to this. Why couldn’t he get over Marvin like a normal person?

He took a deep breath and schooled his face into a mask of indifference, he was going to face Marvin with a brave face on, not like a coward. 

He opened the door, surprised to see Marvin there with a slightly terrified smile and roses. 

“Hi.” Whizzer said, biting his lip and cringing at his own awkwardness. 

“Hey. You look nice today, ready to go?” Marvin replied, sounding effortlessly calm and relaxed and it made Whizzer feel both worse and better. 

“Um, yeah sure.” He said, grabbing the flowers when Marvin thrust them at him. He stared down at them for a moment. “Do you want to come inside for a moment while I get some water for these?” He said, opening the door. 

Marvin paused, panicking slightly before walking in and looking around. Whizzer quickly turned, not wanting to see the disgust in Marvin's eyes. He carefully got a cup out and filled it with water, shoving the flowers in. 

“Ready?” He asked, watching in slight amusement as Marvin quickly put down the photo he was investigating. 

Their eyes met and immediately Whizzers breath caught. A small spark between them lit, and Whizzer was the first to look away, opening the door and walking out. 

Marvin followed him, and they walked over to the restaurant. 

The moment reminded him slightly of the first time they met. Whizzer gazing up unto the sky and Marvin staring at him.

Only this time Marvin was looking at Whizzer like he couldn't believe he existed, like if he looked away he would disappear. And Whizzer wasn't looking at Marvin in case the man did exist. 

He could already tell it was going to be a long night. 

It would either end in passion and sex, anger and fighting, or forced pleasantries until they parted ways to never see each other again. 

All were equally possible. 

To say Whizzers apartment was in a bad neighborhood was an understatement, but luckily, a four-star restaurant just happened to be a few blocks over. 

They sat down at their table, both silent and tense and neither knowing quite what to say. 

Whizzer flipped through the menu, not trusting himself to look at Marvin. If he did he would probably break and kiss the man or something equally as stupid, like stabbing himself in the eye with a fork.

“We should probably talk.” Marvin said, breaking he silence. 

“Really? I thought we would just sit in silence, I heard it does wonders for weight loss.” Whizzer quipped back, knowing he was being mean, but honestly he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. 

He didn’t look up at Marvin but he sensed the eyeroll all the same. 

“Like you need to lose any more weight.” Marvin scoffed, and Whizzer frowned, looking up at Marvin for the first time all dinner. 

He knew he had lost a lot of weight since they last met, but it wasn’t his fault though. Money was tight so sometimes meals had to be sacrificed, and the gym was an excellent way to pass time, and if sometimes he found himself starving himself and working to exhaustion then that wasn’t anyone’s business. His appearance meant a lot to him. Wasn’t like he had a lot of money to entice people in that way. 

“Shit.” Marvin cursed, running a hand over his face. Whizzer looked back at his menu. “That was rude of me. Sorry.” 

Whizzer let out a small laugh, his nerves buzzing so he fell back onto the only thing he knew, petty insults. 

“Marvin apologizing? Never thought I'd see the day.” He said sarcastically, putting down the menu and leaning back. 

Marvin let out a chuckle. “Took me almost forty years but I did finally manage to learn how to.” He replied. 

And honestly that wasn’t at all what Whizzer was expecting. He was prepared for a shot fired back, an argument to break out. Not this passive man before him. What had happened these last two years?

“Ands that’s what I’m here to do today.” Marvin continued. “To apologize.” 

Whizzer blinked, choosing not to say anything. Marvin clearly had this planned out or something. 

“I messed up, two years ago. I never should have treated you the way I did, treated Trina or Mendel that way. Jason too. I was a self-centered dick and I was so unsure about myself. Who I wanted to be. I wanted it all Whiz, and I couldn't. So I took it out on you. And that was unfair of me, and I'm apologizing for that. I never should have tried to force you to do anything you didn’t want, shouldn't have yelled so much, shouldn't have kicked you out.” Marvin was rambling, and Whizzer didn't really know how to respond. 

“Okay.” Whizzer said slowly worrying his lip between his tooth. 

“I want to try again.” Marvin blurted out before Whizzer continued. “If you want to of course. I've just missed you Whizzer, it's been a long time, I've changed. And if you want to, I want to call you mine again.” 

Whizzer thought for a moment. 

“Isn't that what we're doing here now?” Whizzer asked innocently, taking a long sip of his champagne. 

Marvin opened his mouth before closing it again, blinking rapidly. Then he broke out into a smile, relief and happiness flooding through him enough that it was visible to Whizzer. 

“I've changed to you know.” Whizzer said, heart pounding as he forced himself to meet Marvin's eyes. “You weren't the only problem in out relationship Marvin.”

Whizzer stopped himself from continuing, unsure about how Marvin would react to his statement. 

Marvin didn't say a thing, and they basked for a second in the silence as Whizzer debated saying more. 

Marvin had said his bit. He apologized and said he wanted to do better. That was more than Whizzer had ever wanted. More than he would ever be able to do. If Marvin can change from a jealous angry man into this almost sweet apologetic man, then Whizzer owed it to him to share his side. Because he wanted this too, he could tell himself he didn’t, but just sitting by Marvin again made him happier than he had been in ages. 

“I had plenty of issues too. Sure, you were a condescending stuck up asshole, but I wasn't much better. I simplified our relationship, told myself I was only there for the sex and the money because it helped distract me from how much I, well, how much I cared for you.” Whizzer picked up his glass and swirled his drink around, staring into it like it could save him from this. 

“I've learned a lot in these years. Mostly that what happened wasn't really your fault. I pushed you to the edge. I deserve everything you did.” 

Marvin reached across the table, grabbed Whizzers chin and forced him to look at him. Whizzer tried not to flinch away from the unexpected touch, tried to ignore the flutter inside his stomach. 

“No you didn’t.” Marvin whispered fiercely. And Whizzer was honestly scrambling. He felt like he was slipping on ice with no way to catch himself. He was treading on unfamiliar territory. 

“Yeah, you did make me feel pretty shitty sometimes,” Marvin shrugged, his hand still cupping Whizzers face. “But I don't even want to think of how much I hurt you. I manipulated you, I tried to fit you into something you weren't.”

Marvin seemed to realize he was still clutching Whizzer because his hand suddenly fell. “Hell just the names I called you. You didn’t deserve me calling you those. I was mean, spiteful, and yeah you were too, but you knew when you crossed the line.” 

Whizzer simply nodded, not knowing how to respond. 

“It hurts to think of what I called you back then.” Marvin continued, red blushing his cheeks. “The slurs, the digs, they weren't true.”

But they were. He wanted to scream. Everything you said about me is true. I’ve proved you right a million times. 

“Okay.” He said instead, keeping his face neutral in hope that Marvin somehow lost the ability to read him over the years. 

Much to his despair the man read every word running through Whizzers mind. 

“You do know that right?” Marvin asked. “Your more than a pretty face, more than a good body, more than good sex. Your smart and sarcastic and fun to be around. And god I’ve missed that face so much, but it isn’t all that you are.”

Whizzer felt like crying. He felt like screaming. He didn’t know how to handle this he knew how to deal with insults, with mean names and harsh words. But these, compliments, apologies, they were not his thing. 

Normally he'd leave. Say some witty remark and leave to find his footing again. Pretend like nothing Marvin said mattered, like this wasn’t what he had wanted to hear for years. But god damn Marvin and his adorable hopeful face and blue eyes that kept him sitting there. Maybe he could learn to endure them, to accept the praise. 

It would be a small sacrifice to have a second chance with this new and slightly improved Marvin. 

“Okay.” He repeated, unable to form any other words. Marvin didn’t look convinced, but smiled anyways. 

“So we both agree that we were stupid blind idiots that had our heads in our ass?” Marvin asked, and whizzer grinned back. 

“Yup, and now here we are, all grown up and talking like adults. Giving things a second chance like responsible people.” Whizzer quipped raising his glass. 

Marvin bit his lip, looking at Whizzer. “I promise you that I'll be a lot nicer. That I'll appreciate you as you are and never try to change you.” Marvin whispered. 

Whizzer blinked. Before moving on quickly. “And I promise that I’ll try to be better at accepting at telling you about my feelings instead of being in denial. I promise to treat you better and to let down my mask around you.” He held his breath, unsure if that was good enough, or too much or what. He relaxed when Marvin broke out into a grin. 

 

Marvin raised his glass and tapped them together, and the clink of the glass sealed the deal and broke whatever tension blanketed them. “Now, tell me everything about the past two years.” Whizzer asked.

The rest of the dinner flowed easily, the two of them chatting and catching up. It was easy, just talking to Marvin. It was shocking how much he truly missed the other man’s company. 

After dinner they went for a walk again, mostly silent but this time for a different reason. 

A new type of tension now blanketed them, one that increased with every quick brush of their hands together, every time their eyes met. Electricity and flames danced between them, and Whizzer found himself unable to wait any longer. When they reached the front of his building Marvin stopped, not knowing what to do next. 

Whizzer took the lead, staring into Marvin’s eyes for a second before grabbing his hand and pulling them flush together. “Want to go inside?” Whizzer purred into Marvin’s ear, relishing in the closeness, in the way Marvin shivered at his cold breath, they heat between them. 

“Hell yeah.” Marvin whispered, and then their lips were crashing together for the first time in two years. It was fire, it was passion, it was everything he never knew he needed. He was hungry for more, crowding Marvin against the wall outside his door and pinning him there. 

Marvin was just as hungry, kissing back just as passionately and Whizzer knew that they would fall back into their roles at any minute. 

Whizzer smiled against Marvin’s lips, a pleasant warmth building in his chest. Maybe this would work. 

He really wanted it to.

_______________________

“Marvin.” Whizzer called out, grabbing his jacket and throwing it onto the couch over top of the man’s head. 

Marvin made a nose of complaint, batting the fabric and glaring up at Whizzer. 

“I’m watching something.” He complained, gesturing to the tv. 

Whizzer squinted at it, walking over and turning it off. 

“Problem solved.” He crossed his arms, smirking as Marvin let out a loud groan of annoyance. 

“Whizzer.” He whined, flopping an arm over his eyes. “It’s been a long day and I just want to watch my show, don’t make me clean.” He practically begged. 

Whizzer sauntered over, leaning down to press a kiss to Marvin’s lips. 

“Too bad.” He whispered as he pulled away shoving the coat over his head again. He danced away as Marvin swatted it off, chasing after him. 

Marvin caught him quickly, grabbing his waist and turning him around, his thumb digging into his hip and staring into his eyes. 

“Now that you’re up you can help me clean.” Whizzer said brightly, pecking Marvin on the lips and grabbing his hand. 

They didn’t live in the same apartment yet, they were taking it slow this time, only have been together for five months now. But Marvin’s apartment was always a complete mess, the man was always moving, and things tended to pile up. Clothes lined the floor, dirt dishes in the sink, it annoyed Whizzer a lot. 

So here he was, throwing a laundry basket into his lovers’ arms and carefully explaining how to use the washing machine. The wide-eyed look on Marvin’s face made him fight back a smile. How did the man survive without him? Probably the lesbians. 

Marvin came back five minutes, suspiciously wet and smiling like he blew up the laundry room. Whizzer chose not to ask about it. Instead he grabbed a broom and started sweeping, dancing around Marvin as the man tried to grab a hold of him. 

They danced around each other for a while until Marvin finally grabbed his arm and swung him around, spinning him like they were dancing. Whizzer laughed, dropping the broom to put his arms around Marvin’s neck. 

They started dancing around the kitchen, swaying to a non-existent beat. 

“Is this just a distraction so I won’t make you clean?” Whizzer asked, pressing his forehead against Marvin’s.

Marvin smiled innocently, leaning up to kiss Whizzer softly. “Is it working?”

“Nope.” Whizzer said, although he didn’t move from where he stood, swaying along to the imaginary song and basking in the moment. 

They didn’t speak for a while, waltzing around the room slowly. Whizzer carefully lead them into the kitchen, stopping in front of the sink. Marvin’s face morphed from content to slightly betrayed when he saw where they ended up. 

“Have fun cleaning sweetheart.” Whizzer said, slipping out of Marvin’s arms and cackling as he heard Marvin’s answering whine. 

His chest felt suspiciously light as he watched Marvin clean, a soft smile on his lips. 

Everything will be alright.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not going to lie, this was kind of the chapter I've been waiting to write. Kind of short but oh well. This is also one of the last happy ones so buckle in guys, we have a sad ride ahead of us.
> 
> WARNING for use of homophobic slurs used against character. Be safe my loves.

_“Dear mom,_

_I’ve been thinking about dad a lot recently. I wonder how he’s been. I wonder what he’d think of me now. Still flamboyantly gay, living with a man I love, practically the father of my lover’s child, and happy. Would he be upset? Or has he regretted what he did to me? What is he doing now? Is he even alive?_

_I keep asking myself these questions, over and over again with no release. He has haunted me for years, but not normally like this. I don’t get why I can’t get him out of my mind. Marvin can tell somethings wrong. He’s being sickeningly sweet, giving me presents and bending to every request I have. It’s almost as annoying as my actual thought. I need a distraction, something to get him away from my mind._

_I think about you a lot lately too. What would have happened if he hadn’t taken me away? What are you doing now? Are you still alive? Are you happy? What about David? How so he? Is he successful? Happy? Does he have a wife? A family? What would have happened if we grew up together?_

_I really wish I could shut my brain off sometimes you know. It would make everything so much easier._

_Love Whizzer.”_

Wednesday nights were what the lesbians called “gay drink nights”. They four of them would gather in one of their apartments and drink brightly colored drinks that would give Marvin and Charlotte headaches, and they gossiped about random things in their life. 

It was one of the main things he looked forwards to every week, buying stupidly overpriced drink mixes and releasing in the warmth that being surrounded by the people he loved brought. It was weird how different his life was now. Over seven months since he had been back with Marvin and everything had changed. 

He was loved, and he loved them back. He could proudly admit his feelings and didn’t require the same biting insults as he did before. Sure, he still needed that fire. The bickering, the sass, the sarcasm, he lived off of that. But he also knew how to be loved, accepted, and that was more than he ever thought possible. 

Whizzer finished mixing another drink, finishing off the seventh one to finish the perfect rainbow drinks. Marvin was in the living room, counting out their cards and happily chatting away to Cordelia. Charlotte was beside him, popping up some popcorn and making small talk. 

They chatted idly about a recent baseball game, arguing lightheartedly over a call when the phone rang. 

“I’ll get it.” Marvin called out, moving forwards to grab it. 

Whizzer ignored him, figuring it was probably Marvin’s boss asking him for the reports he had been putting off for a while. He was half zoned out, still debating with the doctor when he heard Marvin say something that made his heart stop. 

“Of course there's no Andrew Jacobs here, are we sure the man isn’t at the wrong place?” Marvin was saying, and Whizzer stopped mid conversation, turning around to stare at his lover. 

“Who is it?” Whizzer asked, walking forwards quickly, his heart pounding and panic slightly muddling his view. Marvin looked at him in confusion and slightly concern. 

“Uh, it’s Mary.” Their landlord’s wife. “She says there some old man insisting that there’s someone by the name of Andrew Jacobs here, won’t leave until he sees him.”

Whizzer blinked, swallowing hard. 

“I-I’ll go check it out.” He said quickly pushing past them to throw open the door, barely hearing the protests shouted out behind him. 

Whizzer practically ran down the stairs, fear and anger flooding his veins. He had been thinking about his father nonstop lately, and now there was a crazy old man demanding to see him, calling him by his old name. Memories were flooding back, and he vaguely heard someone open the door and call out his name. 

He was too busy worrying and mentally preparing himself to care or look. He kind of hoped it was Charlotte, she wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t treat him any different if this went the wrong way. 

He got to the bottom of the stairs, and just paused, staring at the man standing a couple hundred feet away. 

He had aged, a lot. His hair was graying, stress and wrinkles lining his face, but he was still fit, still imposing. Whizzer felt his heart rate build up as he stared into his stern blue eyes, the impassive face. 

He stormed forwards, his chest heaving and fists clenching and unclenching. 

“Andrew.” His father greeted, sounding old and relieved and almost happy to see him. 

“Get the fuck away from here.” Whizzer replied, pointing out the door. His father had the nerve to look surprised. 

“Andrew, I’ve been looking for you for years. I’m so happy to see you again.” His father said, giving him a fragile smile. 

Whizzer let out a hollow laugh. “If you wanted to find me so bad maybe you shouldn’t have kicked me out in the first place.” He told him, crossing his arms and raising to his full height. It brought him satisfaction to see that he was taller than his dad, if only by a little. 

“I needed to Andrew. You gave me no choice.” His father sighed, stepping closer and raising an arm as if he was going to put it on his shoulder. Whizzer stepped back instinctually, tensing as if getting ready to be hit. They sat in silence for a second. His dad staring at the ground and Whizzer blinking back tears. 

He was over 30 years old god damn it. He hadn’t seen his father in over fifteen years, so why did he still have this influence over him? Why could he still manage to scare him, to make him flinch in fear and make him feel so god damn small. 

“I’ve been looking for years.” His father whispered, breaking the silence. “Searching all over for my son. I thought hope was lost when I saw you last week. Walking down the street with some young boy. I didn’t approach you but I followed you here. I’m so proud of you. You have a family now; can I meet them? Your son is so handsome, and I bet your wife is a real looker too.” His dad was rambling, leaving a bad taste in Whizzers mouth. 

“Jason’s not my son.” Whizzer said carefully, forcing himself to look into his father's’ eyes. “He’s my boyfriends’ son.” 

He waited for the release, for his dad to yell, to hit him again, to scream and fight and break down. It broke Whizzers heart all over again to see the proud look on his dad’s face fade into disgust. 

“All this time and you still think some kind of fairy huh?” He said softly, and Whizzer flinched. 

“I don’t think I am. I’m happy dad. I have a beautiful lover, loving friends, and a life. I’m sorry I couldn’t live up to your perfect expectations.” Whizzer bit back, protective. 

“All I wanted was a son I could be proud of. I thought I’d be able to mould it out of you.” His dad said, shaking his head. 

“Is that why you took me away from home?” Whizzer asked, raising his voice. “Tore me away from my mom and my brother? Maybe David’s living the life you wanted, but you wouldn’t know that since you cut off all ties with them when I was seven.” 

His dad flinched slightly, but it was a hollow victory.

“I took you away because I needed to.” His dad started. “Your mother poisoned you, David was turning out fine, but you were such a little fairy, even at that time. I was going to leave that woman behind either way. Never did anything good for me.” 

Whizzer was shaking with rage and memories and sadness and he just wanted to lie down and cry for a few hours. 

“Go.” He whispered to his dad. “I don’t want you here.” 

“I’m not leaving Andrew. I haven’t come all this way for you to turn me away. Let me in, give me a drink and I’ll try to talk some sense into you.” His father said, gruff and mean sounding. Whizzer knew that voice, it was his “obey every word I say now or else you’ll regret it and have a few nice bruises to go along with that” voice. But Whizzer wasn’t Andrew anymore. 

He wasn’t some scared sixteen-year-old looking for his father’s approval, scared out of his mind at what was going to happen. He was a grown ass adult, with a job and family and something to look forwards too. He wasn’t a depressed and sheltered child anymore, eh was happy and living the life he wanted. 

“No.” He said, staring his father down. “You are going to leave right now and never contact me or my family again. If I see your face again there will be a problem.” He growled, his fists curling up again. His dad sputtered for a second, unused to Whizzer denying him anything. 

“Andrew,” He started, but Whizzer cut him off. 

“It’s Whizzer now.” He hissed. “Whizzer Brown. I have no ties left to you at all, I’m no longer your son. Now get the fuck out of here.” He yelled, tears welling up in his eyes as he stared his father down. 

They stood in silence for a while before his father slowly nodded. 

“Fine Andrew. I’ll leave. I expected better from you, but you’re still the same little fag as you were back then. You disgust me.” He said, and with that he turned and walked off, disappearing into the night.

Whizzer stood there for a while, shaking and trying hard not to cry. His shoulders were shaking with the effort, and he stared into the night where his father disappeared into a minute ago. This was what he wanted, his father only brought him pain. His father made memories of pain and fists and cruel words swim into his mind, made him think of pain and betrayal and abandonment. 

But at the same time he found the childlike part of him wanted to chase after his dad, to get down onto his knees and beg him to come back, to love him and support him and validate him. He may hate his father. But he still wanted him there to support him, and that made him hate himself more than he would ever hate his dad. 

“Whizzer?” Marvin’s soft voice called out from behind him, sounding hesitant and slightly scared. Whizzer turned to face him, his breathing shaky and tears filling his eyes and blurring his vision. “Oh, Whiz.” Marvin cooed. 

And suddenly Marvin was wrapping his arms around him, and Whizzer clutched to his lover like it was the last thing he could touch. Tears started pouring out of his eyes, and he was too emotional to care. He sobbed into Marvin’s shoulders, shaking and crying. 

Marvin was whispering to him, cooing and whispering sweet nothings. His hands were running up and down his back the warmth soaking through the chills running through him. 

“Your freezing darling.” Marvin whispered, and eh was. It was early January, and he was only wearing a thin dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “Come back inside, we can talk and you can tell me who the hell that was and why he made you cry.”

Marvin started tugging on his arms, pulling him up the stairs and Whizzer was too weak to deny him. He wanted to go to the nearest bar, get blackout drunk and sleep for the rest of his life, but Marvin’s hand was clenched tightly against him and he found himself following him willingly. 

Marvin opened the door and lightly shoved Whizzers unresponsive body in, and Whizzer just stood there in the living room. Too empty to care about how stupid he must look. The lesbians were gone, probably left as soon as he stormed out. 

He felt hollow, like his father took a small part of him and tore it out of his chest, leaving and empty shell behind. Marvin grabbed his hand again, pulling him into their bedroom and sitting him on the bed. They laid down together, Marvin wrapping his arms around Whizzer and holding him tight. 

“Who was that baby?” He whispered into Whizzers hair, and Whizzer sobbed softly in response. 

“My dad.” He answered, hearing Marvin’s breathing hitch slightly. Whizzer never mentioned his childhood, not once. Every time Marvin asked about it Whizzer refused to answer and deflected at any possible chance. Mendel tried to get him to talk about it once, but Whizzer shut him down fast. 

“He saw me with Jason, Marvin.” He whispered. “Followed me here. He knows where I live.” Whizzer sobbed again, the fear fueling his despair. What if his dad came back? He was willing to use force, willing to harm and kill to get what he wants. What if he went after Whizzer? Or even worse Marvin or Jason? Or anyone else he loved?

“Hey breathe Whizzer.” Marvin coached, kissing his cheek and running his hand through Whizzers hair. 

“I don’t know what’s going on. Explain it to me.” Marvin coached, and Whizzer opened his mouth before he could stop himself. 

The whole story tumbled out, his dad taking him away from home. The abuse he suffered while living with him, the story with Charles and his outing. His dad beating him up and kicking him out. Charles rejecting him and his move to New York. Whizzer told Marvin everything, and Marvin listened, whispering responses and praise throughout it, holding him tight no matter what. 

“Please don’t hate me.” Whizzer whispered at the end, the true reason he never shared coming out before he could stop it. 

He was terrified. He was scared that Marvin would think him weak, disgusting for allowing that to happen. That he would leave because there was no way a pansy like him would be able to be a good lover, a good influence for his son. It was so much easier to hide all this, pretend it never happened and never have to face the fear of rejection. 

“No!” Marvin shouted, causing Whizzer to flinch in his arms. Marvin pulled him closer,, shoving his head into the crook of Whizzers neck. “I could never hate you. Especially over this. You are so brave Whizzer, so amazing. I love you okay?” Marvin was rambling, shaking and oh god was he crying too? 

“I love you too.” He whispered without thinking, without realizing that was the first time he ever said it. Marvin grinned into his neck, and they lay there for a long time. Wrapped into each other's arms and letting their tears dry.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially the last happy ish chapter!! Enjoy it while you can.

_“Dear mom,  
I’ve said it before, but this time I really mean it. I’m happy mom. I’m happy with the life I’ve got. Everything is alright. Marvin is wonderful, we’re happy. We both changed so much and now everything between us is good. Happy, not so toxic anymore. I love him mom.   
I love Jason too, I’ve been spending a lot of time with the kid, he’s adorable. And smart, and stubborn and never willing to back down. He reminds me so much of his father, I’m so proud of him.   
I have a wonderful life, amazing friends, a beautiful family. I couldn’t ask for more. Nothing can bring me down mom, I’m not depressed anymore, I’m stable and happy and living my best life. I can’t be stopped, I can’t wait to spend my entire life with Marvin. I think I can too, I want to share a life with him. Want to be with him for as long as I live.   
God damn it mom, life is good. You would be so proud of me and how far I’ve come. How far I’m still willing to go. I wish you were here to see it.   
Love, Whizzer.”_

 

“Marvin look at the sunset.” Whizzer cooed, staring at the canvas of reds and pinks coloring the sky. He looked over at his lover, wanting to share the experience, but found Marvin simply staring at him instead. “You’re not even looking!” He complained and Marvin laughed, pecking him on the lips. 

“You’re a much prettier sight.” He stated, and Whizzer pulled a face, causing Marvin to laugh.

Whizzer snuggled deeper into Marvin’s arms, settling into the warmth as they both watched the sun set. 

This was a new thing in their relationship, dates and spending time together. Whizzer found that he was able to sit with Marvin for hours, either in silence or talking, he never tired of the other man’s presence. 

Their relationship was so much more than it was before, so much sweeter and more complex and happier and Whizzer never wanted it to be anything else. 

“Are we still going to Trina’s again tomorrow?” Marvin asked quietly, not wanting to speak to loud and ruin the moment. 

“Yeah, after racquetball.” Whizzer replied, snickering at Marvin’s groan. “Oh come on old man, it’s not that bad.” 

“Hey, respect your elders.” Marvin said in his trademark old man voice, causing Whizzer to snort and punch his shoulder. 

The stars twinkled in the sky softly, and Whizzer watched them as if they were the key to all the answers in the world. Then he looked down at Marvin, and found that looking at the man felt the same as looking up into the sky. 

______________________

Whizzer could tell something was off the second Marvin walked in from work. The man had a stormy look of his face, thunderclouds hiding the normal sunshine of his eyes. He was tense, his shoulders raised and fingers twitching like he was expecting a fight. Whizzer frowned, but still forced on a smile, walking up to Marvin and pecking him on the cheek. 

Normally after a stressful day that action would cause Marvin to instantly relax, the tension and stress draining from him and a small smile would grace his lips as he pulled Whizzer into a full kiss. But not today, today Marvin simply walked past Whizzer, almost completely ignoring his lover. 

Whizzer would be slightly insulted if he wasn’t so worried about Marvin’s mood. 

Whizzer slowly went to follow Marvin, trying to gauge the man’s mood and find the best plan of attack. Marvin was in the living room, collapsed on the couch and flipping on the tv with angry movements, like the tv personally offended him. 

Whizzer carefully came up behind him, hesitantly placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. Marvin didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t shake him off so Whizzer counted it as a win. 

“Marv?” Whizzer asked, slowly massaging the man’s shoulder. No response. “Marvin.” Whizzer singsonged, placing his other hand and digging a bit deeper, silently daring Marvin to keep ignoring him. 

“Go away Whizzer, I’m not in the mood.” Marvin snapped, trying to shrug off his hands. But Whizzer was persistent as ever, simply replacing his hands and massaging deeper, until Marvin was slowly relaxing the tension in his shoulders. 

“Care to tell me why?” Whizzer asked, resting his chin on top of Marvin’s head and wrapping his arms around his neck in a hug. Marvin leaned slightly back into him before seeming to catch himself and pulling away. 

Whizzer’s chest hurt at the action, watching Marvin pull away from his arms and storm away. “Marv?” Whizzer asked, reaching out but flinching away when Marvin recoiled from him.

Almost like he was disgusted by the idea of Whizzer touching him. 

“Marvin.” Whizzer said, pushing the hurt down and putting his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He asked again. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Marvin replied, trying to get past Whizzer and out the door, Whizzer stepped in his way, blocking the path but making no move to touch him. 

“Too bad. Something happened didn’t it?” Whizzer challenged, molding his face as he mentally prepared himself for the backlash. 

“Yes, it did, but it’s none of your business.” Marvin snapped, finally pushing past Whizzer and knocking him aside. He grabbed his jacket again storming to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Whizzer asked, slightly annoyed but mostly worried. 

“Out. Don’t wait up.” Marvin snapped, tearing the door open and slamming it shut before Whizzer could protest. The apartment seemed awfully quiet after that. Whizzer wanted to chase after him, but he also understood the whole thing about space. If Marvin wanted space then Marvin would get space. Whizzer could just hope that he wasn’t heading to a bad to get blackout drunk or sleep with another man or anything. 

Not that Whizzer could really get mad about that, he had done it plenty of times in the past, not anytime since they got back together, he found that Marvin satisfied him quiet enough thanks, but he still did it when they were first together. So he couldn’t complain, because then he’d be a giant hypocrite and he didn’t like that idea. 

But still, the thought of Marvin in bed with another man made him slightly sick, slightly disgusted. 

Was it something Whizzer did? Had he somehow annoyed the man recently? Whizzer couldn’t think of anything. 

He itched for a drink, or a smoke, or really anything. He wanted to go over and talk to the lesbians, but it was Friday night and he didn’t want to interrupt anything important. 

He felt kind of helpless. 

So instead he made himself some tea, hummed a tune and pulled out a book, deciding to screw whatever Marvin said and wait there for him. 

Marvin didn’t get back until five hours later, past midnight and Whizzer was halfway to calling the police to make sure the man didn’t get kidnapped. 

Whizzer didn’t acknowledge when Marvin came in, simply kept reading his book and blinking to hide the relief he felt. He hated fighting with Marvin when he didn’t even know what he did wrong. 

Marvin walked into the room where Whizzer was sitting, and Whizzer looked up at him. He smelt like a bar, the scent of cheap beer and cologne clinging to him. Whizzer tried to ignore the stab in his heart. 

Marvin stood in the doorway for a while, just staring at him. Not saying anything or moving or reacting to anything. 

“Marvin?” Whizzer asked softly, and the man didn’t respond, simply turned and walked into their bedroom. Whizzer sighed, blinking back tears at the sting and putting his book down. He let Marvin have five minutes to get ready before he walked into the dark room, Marvin already burrowed into the covers, his clothes thrown on the floor and pyjamas on. Whizzer quickly got changed, crawling into his side of the bed and hesitantly reaching out towards Marvin. 

He hovered over Marvin’s shoulder, barely brushing over the skin. Marvin let out a small sound before turning and grabbing onto Whizzer, pulling him close into a hug. Whizzer hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around him too, letting Marvin bury his face into his chest. 

They stayed like that for a while before Marvin started talking. 

“Some of my co-workers saw us together.” Marvin mumbled. Whizzer hummed in understanding, the vibrations seeming to calm Marvin down. “They wouldn’t stop calling me names, calling you names, I just couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Whizzer nodded, kissing the top of Marvin’s head. 

“I’m sorry too baby. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” It made his insides boil to think of those assholes calling Marvin any names, harassing him because of something he couldn’t help. “I understand, you don’t have to apologize.”

Whizzer hesitated for a moment. “Do you want to stop going out in public together?” He said carefully, proposing the idea. He didn’t want Marvin to get harassed, fired, just so that they could go out on a date every now and then. But Marvin shook his head, looking up at him. 

“No, I don’t care about them. Sure, it hurts and I hate it so much, but I love you baby, more than anything. I want to be with you in public and private forever.” 

Whizzer nodded. “I love you too.” He whispered, the words coming easily now.

Marvin didn’t respond, but he burrowed deeper into Whizzers chest, and they lay there for a long time until both their breathing evened out and they fell into an uneasy sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add in an Unlikely Lovers part but honestly I would have started crying and I wouldn't have been able to do the song justice.

_“Dear mom,  
I can’t write for long. Something is wrong I think, I just got admitted into the hospital under Charlottes watch. Some sickness in my lung or something. I think it’s something else.   
Recently I’ve noticed a bunch of men in the community disappearing, getting admitted into hospitals and never getting to leave. There’s many names for it, the gay plague, gay related immune deficiency, the list goes on and on.   
I’m not surprised that I got it. This seems fitting, my entire life ruined because of something I couldn’t help. Marvin insists on staying positive, he thinks that everything is going to be alright. I’m not so sure. I’m terrified, and I’ve only been in the hospital for two weeks.   
I don’t want to die mom. I really don’t want to die.   
Charlotte tells me that it’s alright, that they’ll find a cure. But I can see the fear in her eyes, the hesitance behind her words. She is scared, and nothing scares her. I don’t want to be their undoing. I don’t want to die.   
Whizzer.”_

 

Racquetball was something that was added into their normal routine quiet simply. They would go once a week, play a few games and then go out and eat a bunch of ice cream or candy and gain back the carbs they lost while playing. 

Marvin was horrible at it, defiantly better than some other people he played, but pretty bad. He could hold his own, but his endurance was shot and he’d quickly fall behind, letting Marvin hit the devastating shot that left Marvin groaning and pants as he collapsed in mock defeat. 

It was one of Marvin’s favourite pastimes, one because he always one, and two because it gave him time to spend with Marvin when they got along, where they could be competitive but Whizzer didn’t have to worry about getting into a fight. 

The first time he won he almost had a panic attacks, apologizing to Marvin over and over again until Marvin kissed him to shut him up and calmly promised him to never repeat the mistakes they made all those years ago. 

Ever since then Whizzer was relentless, winning almost every single game without letting up on the other man. It was fun, refreshing, joyful. 

Until recently. Whizzer had been putting off games for almost a month now, feeling tired and sick and having little to no energy. 

He knew the signs but he steadily ignored them. Was he tired? Only because he had trouble sleeping the night before. Getting thinner? Well, he had a fast metabolism and hadn’t been eating a lot lately, nothing to worry about. Had a bad cough? Just a cold, no second thought. 

But the reminder lingered in the back of his mind, his friends dropping like flies, going to the hospital to never return. Charlotte's angry rants on their gay drink nights, ones that made Marvin cast worried glances at him that Whizzer ignored. 

But he couldn’t put off racquetball any longer, or else Marvin would tell Charlotte and Charlotte would force him to get checked out and that would make everything real. And this wasn’t it was all in his head, he was overreacting really. 

So he and Marvin went out to the courts, changed into their usual clothes and Whizzer ignored how his normally tight-fitting outfit hung from his body. 

He went to the court and served the ball, his limbs feeling heavy and sore and Marvin returned it easily. He managed to keep up for a few rounds before he felt himself getting so sluggish he missed and easy ball. Marvin grinned, a teasing smile on his face. 

“Not a word.” Whizzer groaned, handing him the ball. 

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you over the sound of my victory.” Marvin replied with a grin that made Whizzer roll his eyes. Marvin served, and Whizzer managed to hit the ball three times before his arms felt to heavy to work. Marvin laughed again, seeming not to notice Whizzers behaviour. 

He didn’t take it personally. But his chest was sore and heaving after only two short games, and his arms felt like lead and his legs like jelly. Something was out of place, out of whack, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. 

They bantered a bit before staring again, this time Whizzer wasn’t even able to hit it back. He knew he couldn’t continue, that there was something wrong and he needed to stop. Marvin teased him gently about being a quitter, but Whizzer had enough. He was ready to go. 

He started to walk off the court, but suddenly his legs gave out from under him and he was crashing to the floor, his raquette tumbling down with him. He kneeled there for a second, panting heavily and Marvin rushed down and cupped his cheeks, the competitive look in his eyes completely replaced by fear. 

Whizzer’s brain kind of checked out after that, getting lost in leaning against Marvin because suddenly walking was too hard for him, and then they were in a hospital and Charlotte was looking at him with barely contained fear and then he was in a room, laying in a bed with multiple drugs going through his system. 

Marvin hadn’t left his side yet, his hand clutched onto his desperately. 

“You need to go home.” Whizzer told him. “Your all sweaty and gross.”

Marvin chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I’m not leaving until I know your okay.”

Whizzers gaze softened and he gave Marvin a small smile. “GO get some rest, come back and you’ll find out. I’ll be fine for a few hours, it’s also Friday, you need to talk to Trina and Jason.” 

Whizzer knew trying to convince Marvin to stay home with Jason was fruitless, and there was no way the kid was coming here, too depressing for such a bright child, so he had to stay at Trina’s. Hopefully the woman would understand. 

Marvin hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I’ll be back in two hours, probably less. I promise.” Marvin said, and with a final kiss he was gone, out the door in a hurry and Whizzer was left alone with his thoughts.

___________

Whizzer didn’t want to die. 

He really didn’t. He liked life, he really did. And yet now he was cooped up in this stupid hospital with all the fake doctors pretending to worry about his heath and people poking and prodding at him and looking at him with pity. 

He had only been there for two week, and he was convinced they were slowly killing him to get money. Because he wasn’t getting any better, he was getting more and more tired, his cough was even worse, and most days he could barely stay awake. 

Marvin was by his side at all times, only leaving to work his now shortened hours or to spend some time with Jason. But Whizzer could see the stress taking the toll on the man. It was exhausting watching how positive everyone was trying to be. Marvin seemed to deny the fact that Whizzer was sick, Cordelia seemed to be attempting to drown herself in chicken fat, Charlotte was working on some cure for some disease they don’t even know. And Jason seemed determined to make Whizzer the best chess player in the world. 

He was glad for them all, he really was. But he wasn’t dead yet, he, hopefully, wasn’t close to dying yet, and they needed to stop acting like he was. If he got one more pity filled look her was going to storm out of that room. Or as far as he could get before his legs failed. So probably around two steps. 

Marvin was currently pacing the room, not yet having noticed that Whizzer was awake. It was a Friday, making his second week there, and from what he heard everyone was coming over. Which was nice, but sometimes the room got a bit too crowded with all of them. 

“Whizzer!” Marvin said with a fake smile plastered over the worried expression. 

“Good morning.” Whizzer replied with his own fake smile. 

“How you feeling? You look great.” Marvin said, and Whizzer knew he was lying. He looked like shit, pale with bags under his skin, thin and a stick and looking like death warmed over. He appreciated it anyways. 

“Shitty, but kicking.” He replied honestly, coughing slightly. Marvin took the time to raise up his bed a bit, easing the pressure on his chest. Whizzer smiled his thanks. 

“What time is everyone coming over?” He asked, blinking as suddenly Cordelia walked in, a bright smile plastered on her face and carrying yet another tray of food. Yay. 

“Hello!” She said cheerfully, “I know you said you didn’t want any more food but I had some leftover pie that I thought you’d love.” She said shoving a pile of pie at him. He smiled in thanks, picking at it slightly. 

It was heavenly, but he just didn’t have the appetite. Cordelia and Marvin were talking happily, sounding loud and out of place in the depressingly grey room. 

Trina, Mendel and Jason walked in an hour later, all smiles and sunshine and hope. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Trina started chatting with Cordelia, and Mendel with Marvin, who was now sitting in the chair and holding Whizzers hand. Jason came and sat on the bed, chatting rapidly to Whizzer who was trying to keep up despite the fatigue in his bones. 

His room was full of life and joy and optimism. And yet Whizzer still felt like he was dying. Like he was slowly draining the joy out of everything, the life out of everyone around him. It was weird to be surrounded by such life yet at the same time feel so dead.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The very last chapter!
> 
> I've been debating doing a sequel from Marvin's perspective as he reads some of Whizzer's letters and reflects on them and It included little snippets of his perspective? Is that something you would like to read? Let me know.

_“Dear mom,_

_This is likely the last letter I will ever write._

_It’s official, I’m going to die. It doesn’t surprise me though, everyone had to die at some point you know? I just kind of hoped mine would turn out later. I wanted to live a life, I was happy for fucks sake. Truly happy. Now all I can do is hope I have a dignified death, because I already know it's going to be a painful one._

_I don’t want to think about how this is going to affect everyone. It’s so god damn selfish of me to do this to them. After all I’ve caused, all that I’ve done, I Shouldn’t be allowed to check out this early. God I’ve practically ruined these people’s lives, I stole Trina’s husband, Jason’s father, been nothing but rude and cold to Mendel, made Cordelia worry out of her mind, made Charlette slowly work herself to death, and Marvin, I can’t list everything I’ve done to him. And yet, I am so grateful for all of the._

_I stole Trina’s husband. Forced her to go through a nasty divorce, through fighting constantly, I’ve helped break her heart over and over again. And yet she’s still here, talking to me and trying to cheer me up. Same with Mendel, he tried to help me even though there’s nothing left to help. He tries to keep my spirits up and keeps telling me these stupid pieces of advice and bad jokes. I don’t know why he tried, but I’m grateful that he does._

_And Jason, god I don’t even want to think about Jason. I took his father away, helped with the undoing of his mother, and yet the kid loves me. Honest to god loves me. And I love him too, words can’t describe how much I love that kid. And here I am, dying slowly in front of his eyes and he’s not even thirteen yet. I’m going to miss his Bar Mitzvah, which is something that I promised to him that I won’t miss. But I’m stuck here, slowly becoming thinner and weaker in front of him. If I could I would save him from this, send him away and make sure he doesn’t have to see me like this. But I can’t, because the kids so stubborn he insists on seeing me every other day.  
And Charlotte, she’s working so hard to keep me alive, to help find a cure. There isn’t one, at least not one that will be found in time to save me. But she’s still here, working constantly and stressing herself out like my life is in her hands. My life has been out of their hands for a long time now. My life is forfeit, simply waiting and ticking down to the time when it leaves. And god I think it’ll be soon. _

_And Cordelia, my best friend for years, my rock, my other half. Sure, she can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she’s trying so hard to keep my spirits up. She’s painfully optimistic, in denial to the fact that I’m fucking dying. It’ll ruin her, when I finally go. But she’ll have Charlotte to support her, they’ll support each other, they work like that. But really, words can’t describe how indebted to her I am. Her positivity that helped me through so much. And this is how I repay her._

_And Marvin, god Marvin._

_Ever since that night in the bar I’ve ruined his life over and over again. I didn’t make him leave Trina and Jason, no, that was long coming. But I provided him with an out, a reason. But dear god I don’t regret it at all. I don’t regret any second that I’ve spent with him, the good, the bad, anything in-between. I love him. I really do. We break each others hearts over and over again, but we still end up in the same place, in each others arms. Like that’s where I belong. He’s here every day, taking the odd shift at work but mostly he stays beside me, holding my hand or laying in my arms and just being there._

_And god I can see him slowly disappearing in front of me everyday. I can’t tell if it’s from stress or something else, but he’s tired, thinning, and most days he looks ready to collapse. I did that to him. I did that. I’ve put him through hell, and if I, god I can’t even write it. But I can’t stand this, the echo we both have become in the past few months. If I could go back in time and fix it I would._

_But for now, I’m slowly dying, with my many regret brewing in my mind and taking everything over. I can’t stand it, but I can’t change it either. So I sit here and slowly die from the inside out._

_I’m young mom, I don’t want to die. There’s still so much things I want to do. From traveling around and seeing Niagara Falls, moving somewhere that isn’t the united states. I want to find you, want to see your face again. See David again, get the family that I left so long ago. Maybe live long enough for the world to get it’s head out of its ass so that Marvin and I could get married. But it’s also the small things, I want to finish the scrapbook of Marvin and I, I want to stick around to see Jason graduate, I want to go to a bar with Marvin and share a drink and laugh at drunk people. God I want to live._

_But I can’t. I won’t be able to because I’m dying in this stupid bed and there’s no way for me to change it._

_Fuck, I’m sorry. I love you. I’m going to see if Marvin can somehow find you and get all my letters to you, so that you can see where your little quiet boy went, who he turned into. I love you mom. I love Marvin, I love Jason, and Cordelia and Charlotte, I even love Trina and Mendel someday._

_And sometimes the price you have to pay for love is your life. And it seems like I’m paying it now._

_I love you so much mom,_

_Whizzer.”_

 

“Charlotte told you?” Marvin asked, and Whizzer wanted him to sound mad, but he only sounded sad and defeated and it made tears burn the back of his eyes. 

“She didn’t have to, doesn’t take a doctor to see what’s happening to you.” Whizzer snapped back, crossing his arms over his stress despite the steady ach in every part of him. 

It was pretty obvious, Whizzer knew because he saw it slowly happen to himself too. The weight loss, the tired look in Marvin’s ask, the lack of appetite. It was written all over Marvin, and the ache inside Whizzer grew just thinking about it. Thinking about what he did. 

“Whizzer.” Marvin sighed, reaching out to grab Whizzer’s hand, but Whizzer pulled away. 

“Don’t touch me.” He cried out, tears welling up again because dear god why the hell was this happening to him? What did he do to deserve this torture, to watch Marvin slowly succumb to that same illness that plagued his own veins and be the reason for it? “I’ve already done enough to you.”

It was bad enough that he was dying, that he as in constant pain and angst, but to tear Marvin down with him? God it was too much to handle, too much for him to comprehend. And Marvin seemed fine with it, didn’t even see worried in the least bit, didn’t seem mad, or upset. God, Whizzer was killing him. Had practically killed him already.

All because he was selfish. Because he needed Marvin in his life, because Marvin had become his everything. And now Whizzer was the cause of his final undoing. How fitting. 

“Whizzer, baby.” Marvin whispered, denying Whizzer and walking forwards, close to him. “You haven’t done anything to me.”

“Yes I have!” Whizzer cried out. “It’s my fault that I’m dying, that you are to. God It’s all my fault why don’t you hate me?” 

Something tightened in Whizzer’s chest and suddenly he was coughing, no air making it past his windpipe. Marvin was immediately into action, grabbing the water and shoving it into Whizzers mouth, which he drank thankfully. 

The ease went down and when he was finally able to focus again he was in Marvin’s arms, the man petting his hair. He tried to struggle a bit but it was fruitless, he melted into the embrace, tears running down his cheeks and he stopped the fight to stop them. 

“I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner that there was a possibility. But this is in no way your fault baby. Not your fault. There was no way for you to know. No way okay? Please Whizzer, just worry about yourself.” Marvin whispered, holding him so tight Whizzer thought he was going to break. 

“There’s nothing left about myself to worry.” Whizzer said, burying his head in the crook of Marvin’s neck. “I’m dying Marvin. Kicking, but still dying. You know that right? So excuse me for worrying about you. I’m done for, but there was still hope for you. And now,” Whizzer broke off into a sob, and Marvin was crying too. 

They didn’t speak for a long time. 

“I don’t care you know.” Marvin whispered. “Yeah, I don’t want to die, but Whizzer, if the choice was either between being with you or not, I would chose you every time.”

Whizzer didn’t know how to respond, how to put into words just how much he loved this man. 

“Can I ask you a favor?” He said softly, laying his head on Marvin’s chest and looking up at him. Marvin hummed in response. 

“When I, leave,” He didn’t say die, saying that he was dying tended to make Marvin cry and he didn’t want that. “Can you try to find a woman for me? Her names Catherine Jacobs. I don’t know anything about where she is or if she’s even alive. There’s a box in the back of our closet, you’ll see it. If you find her can you give them to her?” 

Marvin nodded, the question in his eyes but he seemed willing to keep his mouth shut about it. 

“My mom.” He clarified, and Marvin made a noise of understanding. He didn’t know it all, but he knew the gist of it. If he decided to read the letters then he would understand. 

Normally, the thought of anyone else ready his super private letters would make him want to burn the damn things, but somehow he found he didn’t care. Not really. He didn’t care about much anymore. 

Marvin continued to stroke a hand through his hair, and Whizzer felt his strength draining out of him, staying awake was a chore lately. Soon eh was drifting off to sleep, firmly wrapped in his lovers’ arms. 

 

____________

When Whizzer woke up, the last person he expected to see in his room was Trina. 

He was used to always having Marvin by his side, sitting in the uncomfortable chair and waiting for Whizzer to grace him with his presence. If Marvin wasn’t there it was always one of the lesbians, or maybe even Jason. 

But never Trina. The woman didn’t come often, normally only on their Friday get together when she dropped Jason off with Marvin. But here she was, sitting in the chair by his bed and reading some story. She looked up at him, jumping slightly when she saw Whizzer was awake. 

“Morning.” He said with a faint smile, she smiled down at him, placing a bookmark to mark her place and placing it down on the tiny table beside her. 

“How are you feeling today Whizzer?” She asked, patting his hand in an almost motherly nature. He blinked. 

“Okay, where’s Marv?” He asked, looking around the room for any sign of him. Not that he didn’t like Trina, it’s just she kind of unsettled him. She had ever reason to hate him, and yet she didn’t for some reason. She was still here, sitting beside him as he rattled in unsteady breaths. 

“He went to get us some food, said the food here sucks ass and the cooks are all assholes who don’t know how to do their job.” Trina replied with a soft laugh, and Whizzer smiled, seemed like something Marvin would say. Not that he was lying. 

He appreciated everyone in the hospital working to make him comfortable, but the cooks really hated him. Refused to come into the room in case they caught something, so by the time someone found his food and got it to him it was cold and stale and tasted like dirt. 

“How’s Mendel?” Whizzer asked, cringing at the shitty small talk he was subjecting them too. Why couldn’t he just have stayed asleep. 

“Good,” Trina said with a humoring smile. She knew he was floundering but she was more than content to let him suffer through it. “He’s out with Jason right now.” 

Whizzer nodded, chewing on his already dry lips. He didn’t know what to do next, how to go on with this interaction. Whizzer prided himself on being able to read people well, even complete strangers, but after years of knowing the woman she always managed to surprise him. She once loved Marvin, and he could relate to that, but at the same time she really didn’t. She loved Marvin in her own special way. She needed attention, was practically begging for it sometimes, but at the same time she was the most independent woman he knew. 

She was strong but flimsy, sarcastic and cutting but also sweet and willing to please. She was a confusing, wonderful woman and Whizzer wanted more than anything for her to like her, to gain her admiration and trust. He knew he never would. But hey a man could dream. She was a rock in an ever-running stream. 

“Hey can you do me a favor?” He asked suddenly, knowing there wasn’t going to be another opportunity like this. Him and Trina alone, Marvin no where to be seen. 

“Sure.” She replied, looking slightly interested but mostly like she was humoring a little kid. 

“Look after him for me.” He blurted out, and Trina’s smile dropped. “When I, you know, look out for Marvin, Jason too. They’ll need you. I’m sorry for throwing this on you but Marv.” He trailed off, shuttering to think about how his lover was going to react to his passing. 

Knowing Marvin, not very well. 

Trina nodded, seeming much older than she really was. 

“I’ll do my best.” She replied, her voice suspiciously thick. 

“That’s all I ask.” Whizzer replied, his eyes slipping shut as he forced himself to fall back to sleep, wanting to avoid the small talk. 

 

_____________

He managed to keep himself alive for two days after Jason’s bar mitzvah, two long days of fighting and struggling and pain.

He was currently laying in bed, Marvin sleeping beside him as he struggled to breath. 

This was it. 

He knew it was and still he couldn’t help but be petrified. 

He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to be in so much pain. 

But he was, the pain was overwhelming, every bit of his body encased in it. Wrapped in agony and suffering worse than he ever thought he’d have to deal with. Tears welled up in his eyes as he started coughing. The violent jerking awoke Marvin, who quickly looked down in a panic. 

“Whizzer!” He cried trying his best to help stop the coughing, it was an almost helpless cause. The pain in his chest was like spikes driving him with every breath, but somehow Whizzer managed to get them under control. 

“Marvin.” He whimpered, his voice broken and hoarse and understanding filled Marvin’s eyes along with the tears. 

“It’s okay Whiz. Baby it’s okay.” Marvin whispered, carding fingers through Whizzers hair as he pressed the call button. They wouldn’t get there in time. 

“I,” Whizzer coughed again, looking up into Marvin’s eyes and getting lost. They were so blue, so tired, so broken. Tears were welling up in them and Whizzer couldn’t help but feel a little less scared. Marvin was here, everything was going to be alright. Everything would be alright. “I love you.” He managed to croak out. 

“Don’t speak darling, I know it hurts.” Marvin said, holding Whizzer tighter. 

He shook his head as hard as he could, trying to get the point across. 

“You need to know.” He whispered. “I love you, so much.” Whizzer was quickly losing strength, the cold grip of death slowly winding around his shoulders, ready to pully him away from Marvin’s grasp. 

“I love you too baby.” Marvin sobbed, tears running down his cheeks. “You’re the only person I want, the only person who I could trust, who I wanted to talk to and share every moment with. I love you, Jason loves you, hell, even Trina loves you. We all love you so much Whizzer, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life. I left my kid for you, left my wife.”

Marvin broke off. And whizzer took the time to interject. “Do you regret it?” He asked. Because god Whizzer didn’t. HE would willingly die over and over again just for the chance to lay here in Marvin’s arms for just a little longer. 

“I’d do it again.” Marvin replied without hesitation, causing Whizzer to sob and start coughing again. Marvin powered through. “I’d do it over and over again because I love you Whizzer Brown. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“I’m sorry.” Whizzer whispered, reaching up to cup Marvin’s face in his shaking hand. Marvin reached up and placed his overtop, the warmth seeping into him. 

“Don’t be sorry my love. It’s okay. You can stop holding on now. It’s okay, you can go. Just promise you’ll wait for me at heaven gate okay?” Marvin asked and Whizzer nodded. 

“Make me wait, I’ll wait a hundred years Marvin.” He whispered. “I love you.”

Marvin nodded, continuing to whisper comforts into his ear. And endless stream of “It’s okay.” “You can let go.” “I understand.” And the most important; “I love you.”

Whizzer closed his eyes, leaning his head against Marvin’s chest and focused on his heartbeat, fast and rapid but strong. He listened to Marvin’s voice and heartbeat as his own slowly faded away, as the heat left his body and he heaved in one last shuttering breath. 

And then there was nothing more.


End file.
